


Beautiful Beasts of No Nation

by DeanWinchesterPityParty



Series: Beautiful Beasts [1]
Category: Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: AU, Attempted Sexual Assault, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, lots of fluff, some actual smut, some canon divergence, some implied smut, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanWinchesterPityParty/pseuds/DeanWinchesterPityParty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after liberating Naevia from the mines, Spartacus and the rebels liberate another villa. Nasir befriends the body slave of the Domina, a small, red headed Gaul with a penchant for medical practice. Agron is not pleased by this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sing to the Gods

**Author's Note:**

> Throughout this fic, there may be some discrepancies about timeline. I honestly just made as educated of guesses as I could and tried to be vague because I have no clue what the actual timeline of events on the show was! It is also told in multiple points of view, so watch out for a name in asterisks, as that will note which point of view it's from. For instance, when *Agron* shows up, the story will continue from his point of view.There is some violence, lots of fluff, and lots of foul language.

*Brynja*  
When they came, it was like something out of my wildest dreams, my most treasured fantasies. They brought blood and they brought vengeance, but, most importantly, they brought freedom with their leather armor and dirty faces. I’ll never forget the look of betrayal and fear on Domina’s face when I refused to protect her. “Severina” she sobbed, “Help me!”  
The man holding her had screamed for silence, a large German with burning green eyes. “Agron! Just do it!” the Syrian next to me shouted.  
“Wait!” I requested, and a flash of hope sparked in Domina’s eyes. “I would have words with my domina before she departs this world.”  
“Be quick,” The commander, Spartacus, demanded. Agron didn’t release Domina as I approached, but glared at me, a warning.  
I crouched and grabbed Domina’s face in one hand. “How can you expect me to help you? You have tormented me for fifteen years. I have prayed for this day. Day and night, I have prayed that Spartacus and his army would give you everything you deserve,” I snarled.  
“I protected your virtue! Severina, remember everything I’ve done for you!”  
“You bought me when I was seven years old! You tore me from my brother, you gave me a ROMAN name, and you only protected my virtue long enough to sell it, sell me, to the highest bidder! You are getting what you deserve now. You are no longer Domina to me.” I stood, nodded to Agron and Spartacus, and resumed my place next to the Syrian to watch the execution.  
After, the Syrian took me out to the courtyard and smiled at me, a wide and stunning grin. “I am Nasir. I was once a body slave, too. What is your name?”  
“Brynja.” I smiled at saying to another person for the first time since I was torn from my brother’s side. “My name is Brynja.”  
“Brynja, then. What do you wish to do with your freedom?” Nasir asked as Agron joined him. Agron glared at me again and possessively wrapped his arm around Nasir’s shoulder, pulling him in for a quick kiss.  
“I would help your rebel cause. Have you a medicus? I often assisted my village’s healer, though that was years ago. I’m sure I could be useful.”  
Agron nodded gravely. “Your help would be welcome. Our medicus is aging quickly; he can train you so that when he passes to the next world, you can take his place. Now, I must go. Spartacus would take stock of the supplies here.” Before Agron left Nasir’s and my company, he stooped to whisper in my ear, “I’ll tell you this before the blush on your cheek rises any further: Nasir is mine, and should you lay attempt to take him from me, I will reunite you with your domina.” He straightened and glared down at me. “Am I understood?”   
I nodded mutely. Nasir surveyed my shocked face and asked, “What did he say to you?”  
“He promised to kill me should I move to take you from his side,” I replied seriously.  
Nasir sighed. “Agron is convinced that anyone who speaks to me seeks to wrest me from his arms. Apologies, for his hostility.”  
“None needed. Were I on my own, his concern would not be unfounded,” I assured Nasir with a coy grin. “As it is, my man waits for me in the stable, no doubt. I must go to him and gather what possessions we have.”  
Sure enough, Buranhu was waiting for me next to Domina’s horse’s stall. When he saw me, his dark eyes lit up and he opened his arms to me. “Severina! We are free!”  
I ran into his arms and kissed him openly, a thing I’d never done without first checking that we were alone. “Buranhu! Yes, freedom has taken us to arms, and I would never hear the name Severina again!”  
Buranhu looked down at me quizzically. “You would never again hear your own name? What are you trying to tell me, my love?”  
“When Domina bought me, she thought my name too savage for one she planned to groom to be a body slave, and she gave me that awful Roman name, made me swear never to speak the name my brother called me again. But she is dead and I will sing to the gods that my name is Brynja!” I laughed giddily, comfortable in the arms of my lover.  
Buranhu still looked confused, but he smiled, his teeth bright white in contrast to his dark skin. “Brynja it is, then! Come, let us gather what we can from this gods-forsaken place and join Spartacus on his campaign for victory!” He bent and pressed a giddy kiss, colored with a smile, to my lips before pulling me by my hand to his room, then I pulled him to mine, gathering the few things we had and taking what we could make use of from the villa.  
That night, Spartacus addressed all of us, all of the slaves that Pompeius Aelius and his wife Laelia had amassed over the years. “You are all free men and women now! Do with your freedom what you will. We will welcome any who wish to travel the road to victory with us, and we will see Rome fall! Come with us, friends. Free all others doomed to bondage, and take as many Roman lives as they took of your family and your countrymen! If you wish to come with us, to take vengeance, step forward now.”   
Buranhu smiled down at me and we stepped forward together, the first of Aelius’ slaves to do so. “Spartacus!” Buranhu thundered in his deep baritone voice. “Brynja and I stand with you!”   
Spartacus smiled and approached us. “I welcome you, my friends.” With that, he grabbed both of our collars and ripped them from our necks.   
After we had stepped forward, about twenty more joined the rebels’ ranks, mostly field laborers, and the other two keepers of the animals. Damon and Lettius had worked closely with Buranhu, training the horses and keeping the sheep and cattle. Aelius’ body slave, a boy named Ninnian, also joined. I embraced him tightly, whispering in his ear, “We are free from those awful Romans, and we will kill many more!”  
“Yes, Severina. We will.” Ninnian sighed. “I fear, though, that I am not fit to be a warrior. I have only ever been a slave.”  
Agron overheard us and approached, offering Ninnian and I cups of wine. “You see that Syrian fighting the Gaul?” He pointed to Nasir, who was fighting an opponent twice his size and winning. “That is Nasir. He is my heart, and one of the best warriors I’ve ever known. He was once a house slave, too. He struggled at first, but now he fights like any gladiator. Don’t worry, and never call this girl Severina again. That was her slave name.”   
Ninnian gaped at me as I sipped the wine Agron had offered. “You never told me Severina wasn’t your real name!” he crowed. Agron laughed loudly as Buranhu joined us.  
“Don’t be so offended, Ninnian, she never told me either,” he assured the boy with a smile.  
I shrugged, looking down into my cup. “I never thought we’d be free. I didn’t want to torture myself with dreams of what seemed impossible.”  
“Then what is your name?” Ninnian asked eagerly.  
“Brynja. Laelia thought it too savage for a slave of hers, so she named me Severina. I would never hear that name again now.”  
We drank late into the night. I had the misfortune of happening upon Nasir and Agron kissing one another hungrily in the corridor outside my room, Agron lifting Nasir easily into his arms and holding him against the wall before carrying him away. Buranhu laughed heartily when he saw the blush upon my cheeks. “Brynja, you are no stranger to sex. Why do you blush at the sight of lovers about to fuck?”  
I shook my head. “It is true that sex is known to me, but that was not just two lovers about to have sex. They were to make love, something I’ve never seen or known.” I frowned up at Buranhu. “I always wondered what it would be like, sex with love involved.”  
Buranhu mirrored my frown. “Not only did those fucking Romans force you into sex you didn’t want, they kept you from my bed, where I could have introduced you to it gently. I am sorry, Brynja. I would show you now, if you wanted.”  
I smiled sadly. “I am afraid I’ve had too much wine for such things. I would be sober the first time we lay together.”  
Buranhu nodded, kissing my forehead gently. “To sleep then, to rise early and set out for better things.” That night, Buranhu held me to his chest as we slept, and I had never felt so safe, so loved, so free.  
The next morning, Buranhu, Damon, and Lettius hitched the horses to wagons that Ninnian and I loaded with weapons, blankets, and food. Nasir flitted about the villa, fashioning curtains into tents and gathering anything that we had left behind the night before. He even insisted on taking a few chickens.   
“We can’t risk it!” Agron hissed. “They’ll be too loud!”  
“We’ll see if you’re complaining about the noise when you’re starving in the mountains in winter. We need the eggs!” Nasir protested.  
“No, Nasir. We aren’t taking them. We’ll butcher a few cattle and take what cured meat we can, but that is all.” Agron said firmly.  
Nasir glared at him but relented, joining Ninnian and I as we gathered sharpening stones and swords from the guards’ chambers and bodies. “Idiot,” he muttered, “When we’re in the mountains, he will wish he had listened to me.”  
I smiled at Nasir. “Don’t worry. Vulcan will provide us with anything we need.”  
“He doesn’t exist,” Ninnian drawled lazily.  
“That’s not true! He watches over me,” I added confidently.  
“And what tells you this?” Ninnian challenged.  
“My mother always told me that she dreamed of Vulcan forging armor with his hammer just before I was born, and that when he gave her the armor, she looked down and it had turned to a little girl. Three days later, I was born, and I have been protected from death since then,” I added with a tone of finality.  
Nasir laughed. “We’ll see in the coming days if your story holds truth. Come, it is time to leave. Walk with me, Brynja, I would hear more about your life, and I would tell you of mine.”  
Ninnian shrugged and found his woman, Ilsa, as Nasir and I fell in step and the group of rebels moved out. “Ninnian does not favor Vulcan?” he asked with a smile.  
I laughed. “Ninnian believes in no gods, and cannot fathom why I do. I can’t blame him; Ninnian was a Celt in his childhood, before he was kidnapped by a neighboring tribe and sold into Roman slavery. He has not had it easy.”  
Nasir’s smile faded into a contemplative scowl. “None of us have. What of you? How did you come to this place?”  
I shrugged. “I was a Gaul once, and my village was captured by Romans. My parents were killed in the raid. My brother, Skender, was captured along with me. I was five years old then, and Skender eight. We were bought and sold, but kept together, for the next two years, before Skender tried to protect me from being beaten by our dominus. As punishment, our dominus sold me to Aelius, so that Skender would always know that I was alive but away from his protection.” I sighed heavily. “Aelius was friends with our old dominus, Anath Pesaresi, so when Skender died last year, Laelia tortured me with the information for weeks.”  
Nasir took my hand and squeezed it. “Apologies for your loss. I, too, had an older brother, but we were sold to different men in the first place. I have no idea where he is, if he still lives, if he even remembers me.”  
Agron approached us then, seething when he saw Nasir holding my hand. “Brynja,” he said, “One of the horses has taken lame. Buranhu asks for your help in treating it.”


	2. Fever Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Brynja butt heads again... and again. Brynja reveals the greatest injustice done to her by her Roman owners, and Buranhu sees it made right. Buranhu and Agron have a pleasant chat and then a definitely not-so-pleasant chat. Agron fights with everyone and Nasir tries to calm him down, but honestly, who can do that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a ton of notes for this one. There is kind of a smidge of almost-smut... sorry, guys, I suck at writing that. Anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

*Nasir*  
I braced myself for the storm to come as Brynja flitted away to help Buranhu with the horse and Agron turned his heavy glare to me. “Nasir, why do you insist on befriending the very woman who gazes on you with lust, a Gaul no less?”  
I furrowed my brow. “Brynja does not lust for me. She is already taken, and seems quite in love with that African, Buranhu. She is a gentle soul, and I take comfort in her company.”  
Agron groaned, rolling his eyes. “Little man, you do not know the effect you have on others. Do you not see the blush on cheek when you are near her?”  
“She was but angered at the recollection of tortures set upon her by Laelia. Surely you can understand blood rising to cheek with such memories?”  
Agron growled. “I trust less than I like her. She is a Gaul, after all.”  
I laughed, then, threw my head back and laughed at my German’s stubbornness. “Agron, she was but a child when taken from her family. She is no more Gaul than I am Syrian. We are not like you and Spartacus, grown free to form alliances to our people. Take comfort in that, and know that I only find kindred spirit in the girl.” Agron scowled at the ground and I placed a hand on his arm, stopping us both. “Hear me, Agron: she is half your size at best, and I would not see her hurt by your hand.”  
Agron sighed, taking my hand from his arm and kissing my knuckles tenderly. “As always, little man, my hands are yours to command. I shall not hurt the girl without reason.”  
I smiled and said, “Gratitude. Now, let us go and help Buranhu. I think he will make a great friend to the both of us.”  
*Agron*  
That fucking Syrian could make me do anything with a smile and a word, I swear. I didn’t know why he insisted on protecting the Gaul girl, but I was helpless to his desires.  
It isn’t as if I would have hurt Brynja so long as she kept fucking hands to self. After all, I could hardly challenge her for sport; she was dwarfed by Nasir, barely coming to his shoulder, and slight, as delicate as a flower. Her lover, on the other hand, was my size, and I had no doubt that, should I attempt to lay hand, he would protect her with the ferocity of the gods.  
“Agron, come!” Nasir urged as I lost myself in thought. “Buranhu needs help keeping the animal down!”  
When we approached, however, the horse was docile as a pet dog; Brynja gently whispered in the animal’s ear as she scratched its forehead. Before long, Buranhu had wrapped the wound on its leg and relieved Brynja of her charge. He smiled widely at her, bending to kiss her chastely.  
“Even the animals bend to your will,” he teased. “Perhaps rather than fighting the Romans, we need only for you to smile at them.”  
Brynja’s pale skin flushed red as her hair. “Buranhu! You speak with the tongue of Mercury, seeking only to flatter for your own gain!”  
Buranhu rolled his eyes and waved to Nasir and me. “Agron! Nasir! Have you yet met my Brynja?”  
“Nasir and Brynja are well acquainted, I’m sure. In fact, I’ve rarely seen her absent Nasir’s company; she follows him as a pup.” At my words, Nasir elbowed me sharply.  
Then he smiled widely and said to Buranhu, “I have found your girl welcome companion on long journey. Our pasts are woven of same thread.”  
“It’s true. Agron killed Laelia and allowed me to have final words with her. Nasir stood beside me as Agron carried out the deed, and I have found myself craving his friendship ever since,” Brynja added.  
“Are you certain friendship is all you crave, Gaul?” I snarled before I could stop myself.  
Damn her, but she smiled sweetly and replied, “Of course, Agron. Gaul or no, I would never seek the bed of another when mine is already filled with such a man as Buranhu.”  
Nasir sighed with relief beside me. “The day grows hot. See yourselves to water, and Agron and I will watch the horse for a time.”  
“Gratitude,” Buranhu rumbled, clapping Nasir’s and my shoulders. “We will return presently.”  
When Buranhu and Brynja had gone, Nasir glared at me. “Learn to bite tongue! Brynja causes no offense, yet you insult her in front of her lover. How can I convince you that she stands as no threat?”  
I shrugged, a little ashamed at my behavior. I knew he was right, but I could not bring myself to trust her. “She unsettles me. Perhaps it is because her hair is the color that Lucretia favored so much. Perhaps it is because she is kind beyond reason, even when I provoke. Apologies. I trust you not to fall to her bed.”  
Nasir barked out a laugh. “Even if she wanted me and I her, I would never be so stupid as to cross Buranhu. The man rivals you in size if not skill, and I fear I would be quickly defeated.”  
I smiled at Nasir. Who else could make me laugh in such a situation?  
Later that night, when had stopped to make camp in the midst of a forest, Nasir found Brynja and Ninnian as I sought out Buranhu. They shared wine, though I noticed that Brynja never drank from her cup, setting it aside in favor of telling a clever joke and joining in Ninnian’s and Nasir’s loud peals of laughter.  
I found Buranhu next to a fire, also abstaining from wine, watching Brynja with a smile. “It warms heart, to see lovers laughing and free, does it not?” I commented, taking a seat beside him.  
“It does, indeed, though I doubt you smile for Brynja’s happiness or her closeness to Nasir. She told me of your suspicions,” he added, not unkindly.  
I raised my hands in surrender. “Would you not seek to protect if you thought someone sought to wrest her from you?”  
Buranhu only laughed. “They would have to drag my Brynja kicking and screaming from me; I would not have to lift a finger to keep her at my side.”  
“How can you be so sure?” I asked, my brow furrowing.  
“How long have you and your Syrian been together?” Buranhu asked instead of answering my question.  
“Not long. A month, maybe two,” I guessed, unsure of how much time had passed since our first kiss in the temple. “Long enough for deep wound to close, but not so long that it no longer causes pain.”  
“Well, Brynja has had my heart for three years, though I’ve only had hers for two. I make sure she knows that I love her, that I will do anything to protect her and make her happy, and as such, she entertains no thought of leaving my side,” Buranhu shrugged. “I do all that I can to ensure she has no reason to leave me.”  
*Brynja*  
Nasir left Ninnian and me to join Agron and Buranhu. “Ninnian, did you ever lay with Ilsa while we were yet slaves?” I asked.  
Ninnian snorted into his wine. “Of course! We shook the heavens when Dominus had taken to bed for the night. Why?” I blushed into my cup and Ninnian gasped. “Brynja! You don’t mean that you and Buranhu didn’t…?”  
“Never,” I admitted. “Domina kept me from the stables as much as possible, though she had promised that if I fell in love with another slave, she would see us married. And, as you know, Dominus kept me busy when we had visitors,” I added bitterly.  
Ninnian sighed and clasped my hands gently in both of his. “You sacrificed much at her hand. Rejoice that you are now free to lay with whomever you choose. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would see Ilsa and reassure myself that this is not a fever dream.” Ninnian kissed my cheek and left me staring into the fire.  
Before long, I shook myself and stood, going to join Buranhu and Nasir and Agron by their fire. Buranhu immediately noticed my expression. “Brynja, what happened?” he asked urgently. “Are you hurt?”  
I shook my head, forcing a smile. “No, Buranhu, I’m fine. I was just reminded of the greatest injustice done to me by the Romans. Come, I would see it made right.”  
Nasir stared at me, confused, but was quickly distracted by Agron’s surprising response to my appearance. “Sleep well, friends,” he bade us. “Tomorrow, we reach the temple where your futures are held.”  
I smiled my gratitude and Buranhu lead me to our tent. “What is this injustice, Brynja? What can I do to make it right? Tell me, and I’ll see it done,” he assures me.  
I gently laid my hand over his heart. “Be still, my love. The injustice was their insistence upon keeping me from your bed. I would remain absent your touch no longer.”  
Instantly, Buranhu relaxed. “Your wish is my command, Brynja.” He bent and kissed me tenderly before hoisting me into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. Slowly, ever so slowly, he untied my dress and dropped it to the ground before lowering me to the pile of blankets that served as our bed and undressing himself. “Oh, love, how I’ve hungered for the sight that lays before me now.”  
“I am here now,” I replied gently. “Eat your fill, but do it gently. I am yours and yours alone.” Buranhu joined me on our bed and began lavishing me with kisses, starting at my neck and working his way down to my navel and back up. When he reached between my legs and thrust a finger up inside me, I gasped. “What are you doing, Buranhu?!”  
“I am preparing you for what is to come,” he murmured in my ear. “I would not have you in pain.” He smiled when he added another finger and I moaned. “Relax, my love, and let me show you how to make love.”  
I surrendered to Buranhu that night, arching into his touch and forgetting everything but his name. When he entered me for the first time, he touched places that had never been touched before, and for once, there was no pain. He moved slowly, whispering in my ear, “Your beauty rivals the sun. You are my heart, Brynja; I will give you everything I have and more.” I came apart in his arms just as he came apart within me, and Buranhu gathered me close to him, kissing my forehead.  
“Buranhu,” I breathed, the only word I’d uttered since my original surprise at his care in preparing me.  
“Yes, Brynja?”  
“I… I never knew. I never knew how much I could feel under your touch. Buranhu, that was… that was everything I’ve wanted since I fell for you in the medicus’ chambers.” I pulled Buranhu down to kiss my lips once, twice, once more.  
“I admit that I, too, am overwhelmed, even though you are not the first willing woman I’ve held. You outshine every woman I’ve ever known.” Buranhu smiled at me breathlessly. “Now you’ve made love. Was it better than before?”  
I nodded. “You perform beyond compare, my love.”  
He chuckled heartily and kissed my forehead. “Sleep, Brynja. We are free to love and laugh and sleep and eat as we choose, I would do all with you at my side.”  
The next morning, we rose before the sun to pack tents back into the wagons and start again on our journey. Ninnian and Nasir found me quickly and Ninnian asked, “So, Brynja, did you see injustice put right last night?” He grinned lewdly as I blushed.  
“I did, or rather, Buranhu did,” I replied suggestively, matching his smile with one of my own.  
Nasir furrowed his brow and demanded, “Use plain words and make meaning known to me!”  
“Well, when I was yet a slave, Laelia protected my virtue,” I started.  
“More like hoarded it,” Ninnian commented sarcastically.  
“Hush. She guarded my virginity and often checked to be sure I wasn’t laying with anyone. Last year, she sold my virtue to the highest bidder, the son of my first dominus, Marcus Pesaresi. Just after, I fell in love with Buranhu, but Laelia did all she could to keep us from seeing one another. It was safer for us to refrain from the act that Laelia often rented my services out for; she threatened to crucify Buranhu should she learn of any disobedience.”  
Ninnian gaped. “You never told me that she knew of you and Buranhu!”  
Nasir shook his head. “Fucking Roman shits. So last night was the first night you and Buranhu took to bed together?” When I nodded, Nasir grinned and continued, “That explains why you nearly split the heavens with cries of his name.”  
Ninnian laughed and reminded Nasir, “It isn’t as if you were silent as a lamb last night, Nasir. She at least has the excuse of inexperience to justify her shouts. What reason have you to abandon discretion?”  
Nasir smiled. “Agron is reason enough to make anyone lose senses.”  
The three of us sank into peals of laughter. So this is friendship I thought then. It may be as good as taking Buranhu to arms.  
When we recovered, Ninnian again left to find Ilsa, and I turned to Nasir. “Agron was in kinder mood last night than he has ever been in my presence. Have you finally convinced him that I stand as friend and no more?  
“Not I, but Buranhu. Your man explained to Agron just how loved you are, and Agron could no longer justify his suspicions.” Nasir smiled warmly at me.  
“I am blessed to have such a man as Buranhu to call my own. The joy of being able to truly be with him is beyond measure.” I returned Nasir’s smile and asked, “How did you come to know Agron?”  
“The same way you came to know me. The villa I served was taken by the rebel army. I was not quite so receptive to the idea of freedom as you were; that night, I made an attempt on Spartacus’ life,” he admitted.  
“And you yet live?! Agron’s loyalty to the man is peerless; how were you spared?”  
“Spartacus refused to kill me,” Nasir replied with a shrug. “He saw something within me that led him to spare my life, and protect me from the Gaul Crixus.”  
“The Undefeated Gaul wanted you dead, and yet you live. You, too, are protected by the gods themselves!” I commented. “Where is Crixus now?”  
“Back at the temple, training recruits from the last raid. Since his return to his woman Naevia, he favors training to raiding, though I doubt this preference will last longer than Naevia’s training,” Nasir added with a grin.  
“Crixus… the name stirs a memory within me, much older than the stories of his victories in the arena. All my life, whenever I heard his name, my heart would leap.” I shook my head. “Perhaps my brother knew him, but I do not understand this.”  
“When you lay eyes on him, memory will return to you,” Nasir assured me. “Until then, take comfort in companionship on the long road.”  
Soon after, we reached the temple where the rebels had made their camp. The place was buzzing with activity, and I sought out Buranhu in the face of such an overwhelming sight. “Brynja! Come, we will find the medicus and set you to work,” Buranhu suggested, calming my nerves as he always had.  
The medicus was glad to fulfill my request for mentorship, and set me straight to work tending the few wounded and sick that filled his chambers. I tried desperately to commit his teachings to memory, unwilling to fail at the task before me. I was determined to be a medicus myself someday soon.  
The work was difficult, but I found that I had a hand for it, just as I had a hand for healing animals. Buranhu had asked for my help for instruction with the horse, not to calm the animal; he needed no help with bending animals to his will.  
When the sick and wounded had all been tended as best as they could for the time being, the medicus dismissed me, telling me to go find food and sleep and to return at first light. I offered gratitude for his instruction and left, surprised to find torches lit in the corridors and the sky darkened outside. “Brynja!” Ninnian beckoned me over, his arms around Ilsa, a blonde girl who was just a bit taller than I. “Where have you been all day?”  
“The medicus is training me. I haven’t the size or strength for fighting, but I’ve a hand for healing; I intend to use it accordingly,” I added.  
Ilsa nodded seriously. “I feared I would be unable to fight, but Spartacus’ woman Mira has taken me under wing to learn archery. I am most pleased to find myself catching on quickly.”  
I smiled. “You have the sharpest eyes I’ve ever witnessed, of course you have a gift for archery, Ilsa.”  
Large hands wrapped around my waist then, and I jumped violently, causing Buranhu, Ninnian, and Ilsa to erupt into raucous laughter. “Do I frighten you, little flower?” Buranhu chuckled.  
“You do! Announce your presence, or I shall cause you harm!” I protested between my own giggles.  
“You would have quite a time causing harm to Buranhu,” Agron assured me as he and Nasir offered cups of wine to all of us. “He trains under Crixus and fights with the ferocity of any German, whereas you look as though you’ve never harmed so much as a fly in all your life.”  
“It’s true, she hasn’t,” Ninnian offered. “I’ve known Brynja since we were children, and she has always been most gentle indeed.”  
I blushed deeply and stared down into my cup. “Not all of us have the souls of warriors, you know. There are some who prefer to mend wound rather than cause it.”  
“A noble cause indeed, but we shall have to keep you from the battlefield, lest you try to heal the Romans we kill,” Agron joked, raising his cup and adding, “Let us drink, then, to gentle souls in the midst of war.”  
The others all drank to Agron’s toast, and Nasir spoke seriously. “You should learn to fight, Brynja. It is important that you can defend yourself and the wounded and sick you care for. Agron will instruct you.”  
Before I could explain that my duties to the medicus didn’t allow for such things, Agron spoke indignantly. “You overestimate my patience, little man. I can’t teach this waif to fight, considering that she is both a Gaul and a gentle soul. Besides, I won’t teach someone who wants my heart for herself to fight for you.”  
I groaned. “So we’re back to this again, are we? I stand before you with lover’s arms around me, and you still accuse me of coveting man in yours?”  
“I accuse nothing, only point out that which is obvious to my eyes,” the German countered, his temper sparked and green eyes flashing. “I briefly considered you friend, but you continue to gaze upon Nasir lustfully.”  
Buranhu glared at Agron. “Brynja betrays no one’s trust in this, not yours or mine. Why do you insist on finding offense where none is caused?”  
“Your whore causes offense with every word spoken and every moment spent with Nasir!”  
Buranhu growled deep in his chest and warned, “I would not say such things if I were you. This whore may well hold your life in her hands one day soon, and you would do well to respect those who ask for nothing but peace.”  
The two had stepped up to each other, chest-to-chest and glaring. It was Ilsa who stepped between them and pushed them apart. “Tempers flare in face of exhaustion. Take to bed, and revisit conflict with full bellies and rested heads.”


	3. Prayers Granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A joyful reunion, the attack on the temple, and a lot of angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reads and comments! I'm always very nervous to post, but seeing any reaction really helps me get the confidence to keep going! Also, I am very sorry for this chapter. It's a little short, and it might break your heart. You've been warned, I'm sorry.

*Nasir*  
I glared at Agron, whose jealousy had again taken over his wiser instincts. He snarled at Buranhu, who had pushed Brynja behind him, and turned on his heel, grabbing my arm and pulling me to our room. As we left, I caught a glimpse of Brynja, who was wiping tears from cheeks as Buranhu pulled her to arms.  
When we returned to our room, Agron grabbed the nearest chair and flipped it, his blood boiling for the fight that Ilsa had put a stop to. “Have you lost mind? You again accuse Brynja of imagined offenses and anger our new friends! She has done nothing to confirm your suspicions against her,” I shouted, fed up with Agron’s behavior. “Brynja offers forgiveness time and again for your offenses, yet—“  
“My offenses?!” Agron responded, sounding incredulous. “I only defend that which is mine from her advances! I have caused no offense!”  
“She has made no advance! The girl stands nothing but a kind and gentle soul, yet you insult her at every opportunity! Buranhu is right, there may well come a time when she holds your life in her hands, and you had best hope that she is more forgiving than you!”  
I turned and left, hoping to find Brynja and apologize for Agron’s behavior. “Where are you going? Don’t fucking turn from me!” Agron shouted after me.  
I looked back at him. “I am going to clean up the mess you made tonight. Grab cock and be a man, and stop accusing friends of imaginary slights.” With that, I set off to find the young Gaul. I stood shocked to find her embracing Crixus with tears of joy streaming down her face.   
“My eyes show me a reunion, but I do not understand it. What is this joy?” I asked as they broke apart.  
“I told you once that I had a brother named Skender, but I also had another brother, one who was taken from us when I had barely learned to talk. Vulcan sees us reunited this night!” Brynja told me, wiping the tears from her pale cheeks.   
“Indeed, little man. Gratitude for delivering my sister back to me in one piece. Her lover tells me that Agron would bring her harm given the chance and half of an excuse,” Crixus added gravely.   
I nodded. “I do not understand him. The more agreeable Brynja behaves, the more he hates her.”  
“It is because you and I are so alike,” Brynja explained with a sigh. I laughed.  
“You and I, alike? Brynja, I’ve no hand for healing nor patience for jealous fools. You and I are as different as the colors of our skin.”  
“That’s not true, Nasir. We are both beasts of no country, torn from our families before allegiances could form. We both favor men stronger and fiercer than us. We both have found comfort in a kindred spirit in these dark times,” Brynja added, clasping my hand briefly.  
“A Gaul and a German will never be friends, though I still call Agron brother for his hand in bringing me to Naevia, and now for liberating my little sister,” Crixus announced, kissing the top of Brynja’s head. “I remember when he led me to believe Naevia dead, yet with her and Brynja returned to me, I cannot hold anger for anyone but Roman shits.”  
“Crixus, you know that I am a Gaul by heritage, but not by upbringing as you are. I don’t see why it matters so much,” Brynja confirmed what I had told Agron the day before.   
“You may not act Gaul, but you are a Gaul to Agron, and he was raised a German, became a man in the Lands East of the Rhine,” I explained. “Whether or not you consider yourself a Gaul does not matter to Agron. Apologies, for his behavior. I will try to talk to him.”  
Brynja surprised me by raising her chin and crossing her arms. “Don’t. Let him hate me, and let him come to my chambers in need of aid, and he will beg forgiveness then.”  
I laughed and nodded. “See yourself to sleep soon. Tomorrow the medicus will have you working without rest, no doubt.” I accepted the kiss on my cheek that Brynja offered and returned to Agron’s and my room. I found him waiting for me, arms crossed and a stormy expression on his face.   
“Did you find the Gaul whore?” he asked.  
I ignored his tone and replied, “Yes. It turns out that she is sister to Crixus, barely more than a babe when he was taken by Romans. Their reunion is joyous to behold.”  
Agron rolled his eyes insolently. “Perfect, Crixus can teach his sister to be as much Gaul as she is Roman. Surely that will balm offenses she’s caused.”  
“Agron, why do you insist on hating her? She has done nothing but offer friendship.”  
Agron sighed heavily. “It is because of the way you gaze on her. I know I’ve said it is because of her gaze on you, and that is part of the offense, but you defend and protect her as I seek to defend you. If you didn’t stare at her like she stood a precious work of art, I would not feel such anger toward her, yet you hardly have left her side since I killed her domina.”  
“Agron, Brynja is no threat to you. You have my heart, every bit of it. Yes, Brynja is fascinating and beautiful to look at, and I find myself comfortable in her company, but she is not you. She will never fascinate me as you do. Apologies; I did not think that you noticed my gaze on her,” I added, ashamed at the pain I had caused Agron. “She is neither Gaul nor Roman, you know. She is like me, a ‘beast of no country,’ in her words. She seems to me a very sad soul trying to wrest all the joy she can from this world.”  
“That is all any of us can do these days. Come to bed; I would lay claim to you, little man, and remind you whose arms you belong in,” Agron added mischievously.  
I smiled. “I need no reminder, but I welcome the attempt.”  
*Agron*  
In the coming days, I watched Buranhu become a fearsome warrior, tearing down any who stood in his path. Slowly, we regained our friendship, and I did my best not to insult Brynja when she was near. Nasir was right about many things, and Brynja was one of them. She was kind and gentle and beautiful, and in many ways she reminded me of Nasir, though my feelings toward her remained unchanged.  
A few times, one of the warriors would make pursuits behind her, grabbing at her ass and breasts without permission. Without fail, the offender would sport a black eye or split lip or both the next day, courtesy of Buranhu. It was very good for Brynja that news soon spread of Buranhu’s protection over her. As his skill in combat rose, the offenses against Brynja died away.  
Nasir trained Ninnian, who struggled more to become a warrior; it was clear that he had no gift for fighting. However, he had the raw determination of a man who has been wronged too many times to sit back and allow anything more to befall him or his beloved.   
When the temple was attacked, Brynja had just taken over more than half of medicus’ duties; she scrambled with the medicus to gather their supplies before fleeing through the tunnels, their patients in tow. Buranhu, Nasir, Ninnian, and I fought side by side as Ilsa and Mira held off Romans from a distance as much as possible. We had nearly escaped when Buranhu fell.   
It was clear to me that he would not survive this wound, but Nasir insisted that I carry him up the mountain; Nasir covered my front while Ninnian defended my back until we had made it to the mountain path. Atop Vesuvius, Brynja and the medicus worked feverishly to mend what wounds they could and make the injured as comfortable as possible.  
When Brynja spotted Nasir and Ninnian unharmed, she smiled so brightly that it put the sun to shame. I still did not like her any more than I liked her brother, but my heart still broke for her when she saw Buranhu in my arms. I staggered over to her and laid her lover at her feet, unable to say anything as she fell to her knees at his side. She immediately set to work, intending, I thought, to stitch up his wounds. She reached into her belt and pulled out a mandrake root. Before she could offer it to him, Buranhu pushed her hand away.  
“Save it, my flower, for someone who will live long enough to feel its relief,” he rasped, his voice weak.   
“Buranhu, you will heal! You have barely tasted freedom, you cannot leave this life yet,” she protested desperately.  
“No, little bird, I fear I will not see the light of tomorrow at your side.” Buranhu took Brynja’s hands in his, kissing her knuckles tenderly. “I used to pray that I would one day be a free man at your side, no matter how briefly. I am grateful that the gods answered my prayers.”  
“What of my prayers, Buranhu?” Brynja sobbed, clutching Buranhu’s hand to her cheek. “I prayed we would grow old together, why does Jupiter turn from these prayers?”  
“Listen to me, Brynja, my love: I cherished the month we had of freedom; I would prefer it to a lifetime of slavery. Be strong in the coming days, little flower. See Rome fall, and know that I await you in the meadows of the afterlife.” He pulled Brynja down for a kiss, and when she pulled away, he whispered her name with his last breath.  
Nasir clutched my elbow tightly as I wiped my tears from my face, and Brynja clung to Buranhu’s hand, crying silently and whispering, “Buranhu, I love you. Please don’t leave me.”  
I’ll never forget the resolve she showed that night. After another moment, after kissing Buranhu’s forehead and bidding him farewell, Brynja stood, wiped her tears, and spent the rest of the night tending the wounded. Long after the medicus had fallen asleep, Brynja patrolled the prone bodies, offering water and mandrake root and sleeping draughts. Just before dawn broke, Ilsa coaxed her to lay down and rest for a while.   
Her grief was silent; she never cried again, never relented in her duties, but she gave up other things, instead. The camp was absent her bright smile and clever tongue. By the time we escaped the Roman’s chokehold, her shoulder and collar bones stuck out sharply beneath her skin and dark circles marred the freckled skin below her eyes.  
Nasir worried endlessly. He tried, day after day, to convince her to eat, to sleep, to care for herself, but to no avail. She would merely push Nasir away from her, refusing embraces or comforting words. I did not delight in her suffering, but neither did I feel particularly sorry for her; she had it no worse than Gannicus or Spartacus or I. In my mind, she needed only to be stronger to shoulder the weight of her grief.   
The only one who could convince Brynja to rest or eat, however briefly, was her brother. Crixus took on a tenderness like I had never seen from him when he implored her to sleep. He would take her to arms, ignoring the struggle she put up, and sing softly to her till she eventually fell to slumber. One night, when he was holding her by the fire and Naevia worried over her, I asked him what he sang.  
“It’s a lullaby our mother used to sing to us when we were hurt. Sometimes, when Brynja woke in the night, I would sing her to sleep before she woke our parents,” Crixus explained quietly.


	4. Cause to Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a year, Brynja struggles with her grief. In Sinuessa, she returns to form, and is pursued by Agron's countryman. Nasir fears for her safety and Agron thinks she should take a new lover. A touch of Nagron smut at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to write. The show doesn't give us much to go on from Vesuvius to Sinuessa, but I decided that Brynja was engrossed enough in her work and her grief that the time would seem to pass in a blur. As always, I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read and to leave feedback more than I can express!

*Brynja*  
The only reason I lived was for the rebel cause. I resisted succumbing to temptation and pitching myself off the cliff only to continue healing the wounded. I was determined to keep the warriors well enough to fight so that they could continue to spill Roman blood. The medicus lived on as Spartacus’ numbers grew, and we took on many new helpers to keep up with the demand of blood.   
The only ones who ever commented on my grief were Nasir and Crixus. Ninnian and Ilsa concerned themselves only with blood those days; they grieved Buranhu’s death in their own way. Nasir took to ambushing me with whatever meager rations he could, waiting around corners and in my tent for me. Crixus begged me to sleep more, offering to stand guard so that I felt safer. They didn’t understand. Food seemed to turn to ash in my mouth and sleep promised no reprieve, only nightmares. It wasn’t as if I didn’t crave sleep or sustenance, but I feared them more than I wanted them. I could only hope that things would get better.  
The only one whose behavior toward me remained completely unchanged was Agron, and I hated him for it. Buranhu had, for a time, regarded Agron a brother, but now that arrogant German walked around as if nothing had changed, as if Buranhu’s passing was no more inconvenience than a shallow bruise: painful at first, but quick to heal and even quicker to fade from memory.   
I hated him as I had never hated before, more even than I hated Laelia for her cruelties. I did my best to steer clear of him, knowing that if we were alone, I would lose my temper and be quickly overwhelmed and humiliated.   
It took over a year, but I found my appetite returning bit by bit. By the time we reached Sinuessa, I was managing a full meal each day. Though my skin remained tight over my bones, the softness of my breasts and hips returned. It would not be long before I was healthy again. Though the pain of Buranhu’s death was still there, it was less sharp; I could sleep for more than two or three hours at a time without being woken by nightmares. Crixus and Nasir beamed when I accepted food or drink or sleep.   
When I finally resembled a reasonably well-fed woman again, some of the Germans again took to grabbing at me absent permission or gentleness. One, Gaufrid, attempted to force me to my knees to use my mouth before he was called away by one of his countrymen. I trembled as he left, biting my fist to keep from screaming my anguish. Nasir found me crying in an alcove and instantly took me to arms.   
“Brynja! What is this? What happened?” he asked gently as I buried my head in his shoulder. “What causes tears to flow so?”  
I caught my breath and explained, “That German… Gaufrid… he oversteps and attempts to use me as common whore. I only escaped because he was called away, but I fear that he will have me. There is little I can do to stop him, Nasir. Even if I were a fighter, the man weighs more than twice what I do, and has strength to match.”  
“That cocksucker. Don’t worry, Brynja, Crixus and Spartacus and I will see you protected,” Nasir assured me, wiping my tears from cheek.   
I shook my head. “I would not see Crixus or Spartacus disturbed by this; they have more pressing matters of providing for our people to attend to. I will be alright, my friend; I needed only to voice my fears.”  
“Agron, then, will protect you,” Nasir insisted.  
“No!” I nearly shouted. “Not Agron. I know he holds your heart, Nasir, but I would sooner die than be in his debt. Please, worry not; I will be fine.”  
Nasir frowned at me. “Should he make attempt toward you when I am near, you will be under my protection. Know that.”  
I smiled. “Gratitude, dearest friend. I will do my best to ensure that your protection is not needed.”  
Nasir did not return my smile; instead he scowled and remarked, “In crimes of the flesh, the victim can be as innocent as a lamb and still be a victim. Stay far from Gaufrid’s company, and if you must be near him, ensure that you are not alone in his presence.” I nodded and Nasir embraced me tightly. “Come,” he urged, “I will escort you back to your chambers, medicus.”  
*Nasir*  
That night, Brynja joined Agron and me for evening meal, listening intently to the tale that Gannicus told us. When Gannicus had finished telling his (partly) true story, Brynja left to fetch more wine. When she did not return for some time, I fell suspicious, and went to look for her.   
That fucking German had her pinned to a wall not ten meters away, pawing her breasts with one hand and forcing her to knees with the other. She cried out, but no one around her was listening. When she was on her knees, Gaufrid ran his fingers over her lips, forcing her mouth open. She bit his fingers hard, drawing blood. The German bellowed in anger and backhanded her, knocking her aside. Before he could strike again, I stepped between them.  
“Fall from fucking sight,” I hissed. He moved to hit me, as well, but I grabbed his bleeding fingers and pushed till one broke. He screamed in agony and retreated, no doubt cursing in his native tongue.   
Brynja was out cold, showing no sign of consciousness. Her chest still rose and fell with breath, so I carried her to Agron’s and my room. Once there, I gently laid her on the bed. Agron would, doubtless, be furious, but I refused to leave her without protection for the night. Brynja’s lip was split open and bleeding and her eye had already blacked; she would be in a great deal of pain when she woke. I dabbed at the cut on her lip till the bleeding stopped before wiping the blood and tears from her face.   
Agron entered then, bristling immediately at the sight of the girl in our bed. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, trying and failing to hide his displeasure.  
“Your countryman, Gaufrid, made attempt to use her as a common whore. When she resisted, he struck her unconscious with a single blow. I sent him on his way before he could do more damage,” I explained as calmly as I could.   
Agron shrugged. “Perhaps it is time she moved on to a new a lover. With Gaufrid’s protection, she would not need you to fight her battles for her.”  
“Gaufrid would not protect her,” I snarled. “He would only use her up and discard her. How can you suggest that she take a lover she does not hold to heart? Is that what you would do, were I to fall?”  
Agron’s eyes widened. “Of course not, Nasir. If you fell, my heart would cease beating along with yours. But she and Buranhu did not have what we do. It was not the same, and she would do well to find herself another protector. Anyone to keep her far from me,” he added with a glare at Brynja’s unconscious form.  
I scowled at Agron. “She has a protector. I would have it known that anyone who harms her will answer to me.”  
“No.” Agron continued to glare at Brynja. “She can find another to do her bidding. I would not have you endanger yourself for her. Now get rid of her, I won’t have her in here any longer.”  
“If you wish to be from her presence, see yourself from mine. She is under my protection, and that is final,” I announced defiantly. “Brynja is a treasured friend, one who has lost much in this war. She will not be harmed without vengeance.”  
“I will not defend her,” Agron warned, “Nor will I defend you if you find yourself bested by one of her aggressors.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “If she must remain here, at least remove her from my bed; it will smell of Gaul if she remains.”  
I glared at Agron, but relented. I gently moved Brynja to a table giving her the pillow I had been using for my own. Agron rolled his eyes when I covered her with a spare blanket and attempted to rouse her to consciousness.  
After a few moments, she opened her eyes, seeming dazed. “What happened?” she asked me, struggling to sit up.  
“Rest a moment. Gaufrid struck you and you lost consciousness. Do you remember?”  
Brynja nodded slowly. “Yes, I remember. Did you drive him away?”  
I nodded with a smile. “I irritated wound you inflicted, and he tucked tail and retreated like a dog.”  
“Careful,” Agron warned from his place in bed, “That’s my countryman you’re speaking of, Syrian.”  
I made a face at him and turned back to Brynja. “Stay here for tonight; tomorrow we will move your things to our room.”  
“We will not!” Agron protested, sitting up.  
At the same time, Brynja shook her head, “I could do no such thing. Gratitude for the offer, but I cannot take you up on it. I will be more careful.”  
I embraced Brynja tightly. “If he again causes offense, you will stay here and let everyone know that you are under my protection. Sleep, my friend, and see a better tomorrow.”  
*Agron*  
When Nasir joined me in bed, I offered my arm to replace the pillow he’d given to Brynja and draped the other arm over his side, pressing my cock against his ass. “You are kind beyond reason,” I whispered in his ear, as quietly as I could, kissing and nipping at his lobe as I did it.  
Nasir sighed and tilted his head to give me access to his neck. I welcomed the invitation and lavished kisses and bites all along the exposed skin, marking Nasir as mine. I trusted the Gaul whore even less now that she seemed to have mostly healed from the loss of her dark lover. I was not sure she wouldn’t turn her attentions to my dark lover to occupy her time.   
“You have such power over me,” I whispered to Nasir as Brynja’s breathing grew steady and she succumbed to sleep. “If you did not wish it, I would never allow another, much less a Gaul, to sleep in our room. Yet, you commanded it, and I stay my hand from tossing her out on ass.”  
“I will not forget your restraint,” Nasir assured. “Do not feel the need to use restraint with me. Unlike our friend, I will not break when pushed.”  
I eagerly accepted Nasir’s challenge to roughness, pressing bruises and bites and kisses to his skin before reaching for the oil. As I prepared him, I pressed my lips to Nasir’s, swallowing his moans before they could wake Brynja. When, at last, I slipped my cock into his ass, I barely contained a groan, immediately picking up a brutal pace. I reached down and grabbed Nasir’s knees one by one, bringing them rest on my shoulders, pressing down on my lover so that he would feel every bit of me throbbing deep within him. With one hand, I held Nasir’s wrists over his head; with the other, I reached between our bodies and gripped his cock, jerking it in time with my thrusts.   
We reached our peaks quickly together, Nasir biting his lip as I sank my teeth into his leg, the closest thing to me. When I left him to find a rag to clean us both up, Nasir was asleep by the time I returned to our bed. I gently wiped his seed from his chest and mine from his hole before stretching out at Nasir’s side and joining him in slumber.


	5. Taken to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron finally turns from his extreme dislike for Brynja. An old friend shows true colors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter for exploring Agron's character. I've always thought there was more to him than they show on screen, even though he is a very three-dimensional character on the show! Anyway, enjoy, and as always, I appreciate your reading my work and letting me know what you think!

*Agron*  
When I woke, Brynja was already long gone. The only sign of her presence was the pillow on the table beside the neatly-folded blanket. “Why do you insist on protecting that little wisp?” I asked Nasir. “If you didn’t, perhaps she would gain the strength lacked for the past months.”  
Nasir glanced over at me, looking confused. “Brynja has been strong beyond reason, Agron. Her beloved died before her eyes, and she yet continued to serve and learn the ways of the medicus. Part of our victories are due to her refusal to allow her grief to cloud her judgement. Brynja is strong.”  
I shook my head. “That’s not the strength I speak of, you know that. If you didn’t fight for her, perhaps she would bare teeth and see herself protected.”  
Nasir chuckled. “Agron, you do not understand what it is to be strong of heart but not of body, do you? She has no hand for fighting, wishes to heal rather than harm. Last night, when she bit Gaufrid, was the most violent I’ve ever seen her, and she will likely treat those wounds today.” Nasir sat next to me on the bed, leaning his forehead against mine. “Not all of us are strong in the way that you are, Agron.”  
I didn’t want to believe that Brynja was strong. How could I, when she needed Nasir to defend her? Yet, when I visited the medicus chambers three days later to visit a fellow German recovering from a deep wound, I couldn’t help but notice the steadiness of Brynja’s hands as she stitched a wound not two beds away. The man she treated grunted curse words and tried to move from the pain, but it took only her hand on his shoulder and a quiet word to calm him. Perhaps Nasir was right, and Brynja simply exhibited a strength I had never encountered before.  
Brynja left the chambers to fetch a pitcher of water. I sat and talked to my countryman and we dreamed of returning to our lands. A moment after my friend drifted off to sleep, I realized that Brynja had not returned, and she definitely should have. Curious, I looked out the door. Gaufrid had reappeared, and had Brynja pinned to the wall by her throat with his good hand, waving the injured one in her face and growling obscenities at her.  
In our tongue, I heard him promise to kill her, to torture her slowly till she begged for death; he asked where the Syrian was then, what she would do with no one to protect her. She could not understand his words, but his meaning was clear; she scrabbled at his hand and tried to gasp for air. I didn’t understand why, but in the time since she’d slept in our room, I had come to hold her to heart, and Gaufrid’s actions angered me beyond belief.  
I approached quickly, grabbing Gaufrid’s wrist and hissing, “Remove hand or see it fucking removed from possession.”  
Gaufrid laughed. “You hate the Gaul bitch, yet you protect her? That Syrian must suck cock well to get you to defend a Gaul.”  
I couldn’t help but smile and laugh before I started hitting him. When he fell to his knees and I could no longer see his face for the blood upon it, I bent and whispered, “A real man fights his equals and does not prey upon those who cannot defend themselves. Grab cock and turn from useless pursuits; if Brynja is under Nasir’s protection, she is also under mine.”  
I turned to Brynja, who had fallen to one knee when Gaufrid’s grip on her throat released. She coughed and sputtered to regain her breath, and dark bruises formed where Gaufrid’s fingers had dug into her skin. I moved to help her to her feet, asking, “Are you well?”  
She pulled away from me. “You would fight your countryman to protect someone you hate?” she challenged, her voice hoarse. “What reason have you to defend me?”  
“I save your life, and you question my motives? I do not require gratitude, but you insult. Do you not know that my heart beats for Nasir? What he defends, I defend.” I bit back my temper. I knew she didn’t trust me, and I could not find fault in her for it.  
“I do not ask for your protection, German, not when I know you would see me dead.”  
I laughed a little. “I would no longer see it so. Nasir has turned my thoughts from hating you. I would call you friend.” I walked with Brynja back to the infirmary.  
She glared up at me and spat, “As you called Buranhu friend? I would not have a friend who would not mourn my passing.”  
My temper flared before I could grab it. “You know nothing of my grief! Just because I did not turn from reason does not mean I did not mourn Buranhu! You made yourself into a spectacle with your mourning, refusing food and sleep past point of reason. He would have stood ashamed of you had he seen it.” I instantly regretted my harsh words.  
Brynja’s eyes filled. “You mock my pain! Buranhu was all I had, the only light in my dark world before we were liberated. He was reason I never made attempt on my master’s life when in bondage. He was reason for breath! Apologies if my behavior offended when I was robbed of heart.” She turned to enter the infirmary, and I caught her wrist as gently as I could.  
“Apologies, Brynja. I speak without thought or truth. Buranhu stood a friend, and his absence is still sorely missed. Please, Nasir and I will help you to move into the room next to ours, so that we can protect you from Gaufrid and any others who would harm you,” I added. “You are not alone here. Buranhu will remain in heart until you rejoin him. Until then, Nasir and I will defend you in his stead.”  
Brynja’s shoulders relaxed as she agreed. “I will find you tonight after evening meal. Gratitude, Agron. I know it cannot be easy to be kind to someone you hate so much as you hate me.”  
I offered only a grin before going off in search of Nasir. When I found him, I embraced him tightly. “What is cause for actions?” Nasir asked, pushing me off with a laugh.  
“Brynja is moving to the room next to ours. She will be safe,” I replied.  
Nasir furrowed his brow. “What brought this? When did you speak with her?”  
“Moments ago. Gaufrid attacked her again. I made it clear to him and to Brynja that she is under our protection. Anyone who sees Gaufrid’s face in the coming weeks will know it as well.” I shrugged. “Brynja and I broke words, and I convinced her to move nearer to our protection so that she may sleep more peacefully.”  
“You turn from hating her so easily? Why do you protect her, when just days ago you swore that you wouldn’t even protect me if it benefited her?”  
I shrugged and made a noncommittal gesture. “I find my attitude toward her changing. She has been useful to our cause.”  
“You would see her as a friend, wouldn’t you?” Nasir crowed. When I did not reply, he pressed further. “As a lover, too, then? I did not know you had any inclination toward cunt.”  
I grinned. “I never craved it before, but she is beautiful. Still, given the choice between her and you, I will always return to your bed.” Nasir smiled.  
“Good. I would not see you from my bed anytime soon.” He pulled me down for a quick kiss. “Come, let us find Brynja and see her things to proper room.”  
“She is yet busy at the infirmary. She promised to find us after evening meal. Come, we have not had sport in weeks.”  
*Nasir*  
I could not contain my smile; Agron had finally taken my dearest friend to his heart. I had to restrain myself from singing my joy to the gods. Before Agron and I could reach the courtyard to spar, Crixus stopped us. His voice sounded panicked. “Brynja bears blackened eye and split lip, but refuses to tell me who inflicted it. Nasir, do you know what happened to my sister?” he asked urgently.  
I nodded. “Worry not, Crixus. Agron and I have made it known to the offender that Brynja is under our protection. She moves to the chamber next to ours tonight.”  
“I trust that you will know the dog when you see him; he bears broken hand and damaged face,” Agron assured Crixus. “He began his pursuit of Brynja a few days past, and today, I believe, ended them.” When Gaufrid entered sight, Agron began to laugh as Crixus and I gaped.  
The man stood unrecognizable, with teeth missing and face covered in cuts and swollen knobs. As such, he shuffled away when he saw Agron and me. “If he causes offense again, I would know of it,” Crixus requested. When we both nodded our assent, he added, “If he again lays hand on my sister, I will cut heart and cock from fucking body. Agron, Spartacus requires our presence. Come.”  
Agron and Crixus departed, and I found myself vibrating with excitement and no purpose to set energy to. As a result, I found myself seeking out Ninnian to spar and practice. As usual, he was spoiling for a fight. As we clashed steel, we broke words.  
“What make you of Brynja as of late? She returns to form, does she not?” Ninnian commented, letting down his guard.  
I attacked and replied, “She takes meal daily now, and sleeps soundly, not that it matters to you.”  
“Have I angered the great Nasir? Speak plainly, Syrian, and see me to understanding.” He tried to swipe my feet from under me, but I took advantage of his position and pinned him to the ground, baring my teeth.  
“You abandoned dearest friend when most she needed your hand in hers. As she mourned, you turned blind eye in favor of wine and orgies with Ilsa. Your rejoicing was the blade twisted in wound. Brynja nearly joined Buranhu for mourning him, yet you turned from her,” I growled. “I would not see you continue. Gaufrid makes unwelcome pursuit, treating Brynja as common whore. She stands under Agron’s and my protection, as well as that of the Undefeated Gaul, but I would have yours added.”  
Ninnian bared his teeth back at me. “She does not need my protection, nor shall she have it. It is no fault of mine that Buranhu fell, and I mourn only his passing; I am not guilty of respondent acts.” With that, he twisted out from beneath me and held his sword to my throat. “Just because the rest of the world bows to Brynja’s needs and will does not mean Ilsa or I will do the same. If she wishes to be protected, she should learn to protect herself.”  
I gaped at Ninnian, dumbfounded at his response to his friend’s need. “What is reason for your bitterness? What wound has Brynja caused?”  
Ninnian scoffed, sheathing his blade and stepping away from me. “Everyone in this fucking army worships the very ground she walks upon, and why? Because she mends wounds? How many Romans has that wisp killed? Ilsa protects rebel soldiers from the coming onslaught alongside Naevia, yet they gain protection from no one but their lovers. Brynja applies poultice, and suddenly you, Crixus, even Agron, who hated her up until now, beg to protect her. No, she does not deserve all she receives.”  
“Our protection is needed!” I hissed. “Since Buranhu fell, she has been harassed time after time, yet without the skill or strength to protect self from harm. Brynja is my dearest friend, Crixus’ sister; of course we defend her in Buranhu’s stead!”  
“And what of Agron? Why does he protect Brynja, he with more reason to hate than any other? She wants you, you know. And she is a Gaul. Why does Agron protect such a villain?” Ninnian demanded as we gained the attention of more and more passers-by. A small crowd had gathered to listen to our disagreement.  
“I cannot speak for Agron,” I said with a shrug. “But he tells me that it is because she has been helpful to our cause, and he no longer wants animosity between them.”  
Ninnian laughed loudly. “Helpful to our cause? She hides in the infirmary! When has she ever held sword or bow? What has Brynja done to help our cause?!”  
I spotted Brynja and Agron as they pushed to the front of the crowd (or, rather, I spotted Agron and a glimpse of red hair at the level of his chest) and, when they reached the front of the crowd, I could read their expressions. Agron looked furious, and Brynja looked deeply offended. “Have you lost fucking mind?!” I asked Ninnian, biting back a laugh of my own. “How many would we have lost if not for Brynja’s healing hand? How many would have died, or lived crippled, if not for Brynja? If not for Brynja, who would have taken over when the last medicus died? Who would have trained her apprentices? There are countless warriors in this army, Ninnian, but only a few healers.”  
“Brynja is as useless as she is weak,” Ninnian snarled. “Her services are unnecessary; without them, the weak would be weeded out as they should be.” At this, Agron started forward, given only slight pause by Brynja’s hand on his elbow.  
“You little cunt! There was time when Brynja gave reassurance to your doubts of becoming a warrior, when she calmed your fears. Now you fucking cast her aside because she did not choose to kill?” he shouted.  
“These also was time when you hated the little whore for her eyes upon Nasir. Now you allow her to eye-fuck him as she pleases?” Ninnian challenged the much larger man.  
“It is for Nasir to decide who may gaze upon him and who may not; I merely count myself lucky to take him to arms. Brynja causes no offense, but aids our cause as only she can,” Agron added.  
“Fall from sight, Ninnian,” I ordered, soft but deadly. “And should you give actions to your feelings toward Brynja, know that you will not succeed.”  
Ninnian bared his teeth at me; when he turned, he was met with Brynja’s neutral gaze upon him. “Once, you were my only friend,” she whispered. “Why do you turn to hate now?” Ninnian didn’t answer her; he pushed past her and fell from our presence.  
Brynja gazed after him with eyes full of sadness. “This day brings light to the turmoil I have been blind to in the past months. An enemy becomes a friend, a villain acts as kicked dog, and now my lifelong comrade turns from me.” Brynja turned to me. “Gratitude; without your companionship as an anchor, I fear I would be swept away by rushing current.”  
I embraced the little Gaul tightly. “Never fear; though the earth splits beneath you, I shall always be at your side.” When we parted, my heart leapt to see Agron smiling widely at the two of us.  
“Come,” he suggested. “Crixus waits in your chamber to help shoulder weight of your bed. You and Nasir can see to your other possessions.”  
Brynja smiled at me. “Go ahead, I would have words with Agron. We will join you presently,” she assured me. I shrugged and left their presence.  
*Brynja*  
Agron looked down at me curiously. “What words have you to break?”  
I smiled and squeezed his hand. “I would offer heartfelt apologies for harsh words earlier, as well as gratitude for your defending me so often today. It must be difficult for you to do so; Nasir stands lucky to have such a man as you to call his own.”  
Agron regarded me seriously, as if sizing me up. “You mistake intent. I defend you, not for Nasir, but because I feel you are worth defending. When I said I would count you friend, I spoke truth. And please, cast apologies aside; it is I who should apologize for past behavior. I was unkind during your grief.”  
“Do you still think that I desire Nasir?” I asked boldly. When Agron nodded, I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Then why do you yet defend me?”  
“Would you attempt to wrest him from me?”  
“Of course not. It is true that I hold more than friendship in my heart for Nasir, but I would never disrespect his love for you. When he speaks of you, Agron… his eyes rival the sun. No, I have had my great love for this life. I doubt I will find one such as Buranhu ever again; I can only be grateful for what we had,” I sighed.  
Agron frowned. “You think you will never love again?”  
“If Nasir fell, would you ever love another?”  
He grimaced. “No, I don’t think I ever could. If I were to fall, though, I would hope that Nasir would find another. I wish only happiness for that fucking Syrian,” he added with a chuckle. “I cannot fault you for your feelings, Brynja. Nasir will never turn from me, I am certain.”  
We reached my room, where Crixus and Nasir were sitting and laughing. The moving was quick; I had few possessions, save Buranhu’s cloak, my bed, and some extra clothing. Afterwards, Crixus kissed my forehead tenderly. “I do not pretend to know why you wouldn’t tell me of Gaufrid’s crimes,” he rasped, “but know that should he touch you again, he will answer to more than these shitheads.” Crixus grinned at me as I laughed. “Come, let us take meal.”  
Spartacus joined us for evening meal that night, and we listened intently to his plans with the Cilician pirates. I could not hide my disgust at working with such people. Spartacus smiled at me. “I know that it is not like us to do such things, but I won’t have my people starve. Until we can break Rome’s back or escape her grasp trying, we will do what we must to survive.”  
I nodded with pursed lips. “It unsettles me, but I suppose we have no other choice.”  
A few weeks later, after a particularly long day at the infirmary, Agron found me in my room when most were taking evening meal. “You do not eat?” he asked, announcing his presence.  
I didn’t sit up or even look out from my arm thrown across my eyes. “Exhaustion takes precedence.”  
The bed dipped as Agron sat beside me. He nudged me into sitting up and placed a bowl of soup in my hands. “I thought it might be so. Here, if you do not eat now, tomorrow will be even more taxing than today.”  
I took a bite, but the food tasted as it had when Buranhu was freshly gone from the world. I set the bowl aside. “Tell me of your life, Agron. We have not broken many words since becoming friends.”  
Agron furrowed his brow. “If you eat, I will tell you of my homeland, of living as a free man, of anything you desire. Why do you set food aside?”  
I sighed. “I am reminded of my brother Skender, who protected me before Laelia bought me. He died just a year before we achieved liberation. I had not seen him for fifteen years. Yet, how can I be sad when the gods see me so blessed? I am reunited with Crixus. I have friends who protect me. I am aid to the greatest cause I could imagine: freedom for all the oppressed of Rome.”  
Agron didn’t answer my question. Instead, he quietly said, “I had a brother once. Duro.” I reached over and clasped Agron’s large hand in mine. “I spent my life protecting that little shit. Then he went and gave his life for mine as we took the house of Batiatus.” His head dropped as tears began to fall from his eyes.  
“You were blessed to have a brother who loved you so. As was I.” I laid my head on his shoulder. Together, Agron and I shed tears for our fallen brothers. After a time, I pulled away and began to eat, urging Agron to do the same. “We shall honor them with victory,” I told Agron with a tone of finality.  
As we ate, Agron told me grand tales of the Lands East of the Rhine. He told me of hunting with his father, of going into battle with his friends. “I have always been a warrior,” he explained.


	6. The Stolen Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir's coat has gone missing, and he would have it back. Or, Agron and Nasir speak their hearts to Brynja. Some almost-smut, some fluff, the whole nine.

*Agron*  
I couldn’t explain the spell that Brynja had me under. It was different from Nasir’s. With Nasir, it was always either hot-blooded passion or tender romance, but when I was with Brynja, I felt at peace, in awe of her beauty and gentleness and wisdom. When Nasir joined us in Brynja’s room, I thought, My family, the two people I would do anything for, the two people I wish never to part with.  
I never saw it coming, that sudden feeling of joy. It was so intense that I could not stop myself as I suddenly leaned over and kissed Brynja’s pink lips. She gasped in surprise and pulled away, her blue eyes seeming to overtake her face in bewilderment.  
“Agron, what are you doing?!” she asked. Nasir smiled silently from his place on the floor. “Nasir, apologies, I—“ Brynja’s apology was cut short when Nasir leaned up onto his knees and pulled her down for a kiss. She pulled away stammering, clearly not understanding what was happening. I wrapped her in my arms as Nasir started to speak.  
“Brynja, we have wanted you for weeks now,” he murmured. “Agron and I have often spoken of inviting you into our bed. You could have one of us, or the other, or both; anything you desire of us is yours.” Jupiter’s cock, when Nasir looked up at Brynja through his dark lashes, I leapt to attention.  
Brynja was unconvinced. She pushed me away and scrambled to the far end of her bed. “Is this why you protect me? In hopes of using me as a plaything in your bed?” she asked, her voice shaking. “I was used as a whore under the Romans many times, but I refuse to be for you!”  
Nasir’s eyes went wide. “Brynja, no!”  
“Apologies, Brynja,” I said gently, raising my hands in surrender. “We convey the wrong intent. Nasir and I… we wish, not only for you in our bed, but for you in our lives, in our family. You would be ours, and we yours, should you accept. You would be to me as Nasir is to me, and Nasir and I would be to you as Buranhu was so long ago.”  
She licked her lips. “Do such… arrangements usually succeed?”  
Nasir shrugged. “I have never heard of one even forming, but we could succeed in this. If anyone could love two flawed men such as Agron and I, it is you, Brynja. And there are no two in the world who I would do so much and give so much for as you and Agron.”  
I spoke up, too. “You and Nasir are my entire heart, Brynja. You would be challenged to find something I would not do to keep the two of you safe.”  
Brynja glanced wildly between the two of us, her eyes wide. “I… I admit the thought has crossed my mind, but… but to love another after Buranhu’s passing would be a terrible sin against him, would it not?”  
My heart broke for her. “No, Brynja, of course not. Buranhu loved you, I saw it in his eyes. He loved you with all his heart, you were everything to him. Do you not think he would want your happiness? If you love us, it does not take away from the love you held for Buranhu, just as your place in my heart does not move Nasir from his.”  
Brynja steadied herself with one hand on the wall and the other over her heart. “If… if I were to love again, it would be impossible to choose between the two who hold my heart,” she admitted in a small voice.   
“You never have to choose between Agron and me,” Nasir promised gently. “We will be as one, the three of us, and together we shall see a life of freedom and love.”  
I saw the moment that Brynja accepted our proposal. Her shoulders, tight with resolve against us, fell as she released the breath she had been holding, and she reached for Nasir and me. She pulled us to arms, trading kisses and sighs of content.   
It took some time to find just the right position. Though we would later change it, we settled, for the time, with Brynja straddling my hips as I sat at the head of her bed, with Nasir’s chest pressed to Brynja’s back. As Brynja and I kissed, Nasir unfastened the knot of her dress, allowing it to fall away.   
Kissing Brynja was very different from kissing Nasir. Stubborn and contrary, Nasir constantly fought against my kisses, while Brynja pliantly yielded to them, soft and warm beneath my touch in every place and in every way. Her softness called me to a gentleness I had never before used, and I touched her as if she might break at any moment.  
When Brynja turned from our kiss to share a heavy kiss with Nasir over her shoulder, I hurried to remove my subligaria and Nasir’s trousers. It was a heady thing when the three of us laid together, heated skin pressing together, arms and legs tangled, hands reaching and toes curling in pleasure as Nasir slipped into Brynja and I into Nasir. So long absent the touch of another and victim to Nasir’s fast-learning fingers and cock, Brynja reached climax three times before her tightness pushed Nasir off the edge. A few thrusts later, I followed my lovers in ending our passion.   
Nasir and Brynja lay side-by side on their backs. As I joined them on Brynja’s other side, Brynja laid her head on Nasir’s chest and reached for my hand. She was the first to break the silence. “May I never move again. I stood exhausted before you two ever entered my room, now you’ve ruined me.”  
Nasir and I joined in her laughter, shaking the bed with it. Before our laughter had died, though, Brynja had fallen sound asleep, pulling my arm over her and Nasir as she nuzzled into his chest. Nasir smiled at me, mouthed, “I love you,” and rested his cheek atop Brynja’s head as he, too, fell asleep. I, however, avoided slumber for another hour, studying their faces and my own heart.   
I never expected to take a lover. Always the warrior, I never allowed myself the luxury of emotion. When I found myself caring for Nasir, I could no more fight it than I could fight the beating of my heart. With his contrary nature and sweet smile and truly vicious fighting style, my little man captured me.   
Falling for Brynja was different. I hated her from the moment I saw her standing with Nasir. I hated her eyes appreciating his form, and I hated her form for beckoning his eyes to return favor. I hated her kindness, hated her hair, hated her heritage, hated her devotion to Buranhu. I positively loathed the little Gaul until, quite suddenly, I didn’t. One day, I suddenly admired her gentle nature in the midst of such savagery. I loved her from that moment on, loved the color of her eyes and her refusal to use foul language and the freckles on her forehead and nose.   
So, I was helpless to two opposite creatures who had nearly as much in common as my brother and I had. Beautiful beasts of no nation, fighting for no cause but their own, and stupid enough to love a man like me with an equal fervor to how they loved one another, Brynja and Nasir gave themselves wholly to one another and to me.   
When next I woke, the sun was yet to rise, but Brynja was already at the infirmary, and Nasir was ripping through his things when I came into our room. “What seizes you?” I asked with a yawn.  
“My coat is gone,” Nasir told me, his voice irate.  
I laughed. “You forget. The coat is on Brynja’s table. Should we move her things to our room and offer her bed to another?”  
“Yes, we’ll ask her at evening meal. I look, not for that coat, but for the lighter one, the one I wore when I was not yet a warrior.” Nasir stepped away from his trunk, hissing his distress. “I value privacy, what reason would someone have to go through my things?”  
I shrugged. “Put it from mind, the coat will continue hiding if you bare teeth.” I pulled Nasir in for a kiss. “Come, I would see to Brynja and her patients.”  
Nasir curled his lip in distress and nodded, ducking into Brynja’s room to grab the coat he didn’t want and pulling it on. He muttered about it distractedly as we made our way to the infirmary, and I couldn’t help but laugh.  
*Nasir*  
I could not imagine who would take my coat or why, but I was angry about it. I preferred, when possible, to wear more than just a subligaria or trousers. After years of my body being bared to whomever my dominus pleased, I took much comfort in being able to cover myself as it suited me and uncover myself when the feeling arose. That day, it was much too hot for the coat I wore; I wanted the other.   
I didn’t have to look long for it; the coat revealed itself the moment we stepped into the infirmary. Brynja wore it and a pair of trousers she must have made for herself; as she moved around the infirmary, tending to the sick and wounded, my anger evaporated. Seeing her in my clothes stirred a possessiveness within me I had not known existed. My breath caught and I stared openly at her. Agron looked down at me, confused, as I grabbed his elbow and said, “Will you tend the patients for a time?”   
“Ah, yes, of course,” he stammered, confused. “But why?”  
“I need a moment with our medicus.” With that, I went to Brynja and whispered in her ear, “Come with me. Agron will watch over the patients until we return.” With a hand on the small of her back, I didn’t give her much of an option to refuse, ushering her into an empty alley a short distance from the infirmary. As soon as we were reasonably alone, I bent and kissed her hard.   
Brynja pulled away with a gasp. “Have you lost mind?!”  
I nodded. “You stole it when you wore my coat. I need to have you, Brynja, now.” I had never, of my own will, been with a woman alone, and I fumbled a bit from time to time. Brynja was happy to take whatever I gave her, her breath trembling as she surrendered to the pleasure I offered, and made an offering of her own. We were as one, just the two of us, against the wall in that alley, and we satisfied our cravings for one another with no thought to our surroundings.  
After, she leaned against my chest as I wrapped my arms around her and she asked, “All this because I stole your coat? Remind me to take your things more often.”  
I chuckled. “Truthfully, the sight of you wearing my coat stirred a fire in me like I’ve never known. Why do you wear the clothing of a man?”  
Brynja looked down. “I tire of being weak and exposed to the world. The clothing of a man offers more secure protection than that of a woman.”  
I kissed my new lover’s forehead and whispered, “Take comfort, then, in the clothing of a man, and in the arms of your men.” I saw her back to the infirmary and, with Agron, made to Spartacus’ chambers.  
“You smell of a quick fuck,” he told me, laughter evident in his voice. “Did you gain vengeance for stolen clothing?”  
“I gained retribution, yes,” I replied with a chuckle. “I find myself quite satisfied.”  
We shared a look before bursting into laughter. I left to see to training, and Agron to meet with Spartacus, Crixus, and Gannicus.   
That night a celebration was held, full of drink and what food we had. I found myself deep in broken words with a handsome man, skin the color of Buranhu’s, a Cilician named Castus. I, of course, tried to explain to him that I was more than occupied with another, but the man yet persisted, lighting a fire within Agron I had not seen equaled. Brynja followed at a distance, clearly unsure whether to intervene. As we shouted at one another, she slipped away, intent on giving us the privacy we needed.  
Next morning, I found her at the infirmary, instructing a few apprentices on making poultices and sleeping draughts. She smiled when she saw me, but I was moved to quick apology. “Brynja, last night… Agron and I swore to take you to our arms, take you to heart, but we turned from you. Apologi—“  
Brynja cut me off before I could finish the words. “Hush. No apology is needed. Things do not always change as quickly as we say they will, and Agron and you needed a night alone. Was agreement reached?”  
I sighed. “I do not know. He seemed in better spirits, but when he caught sight of Castus, his mood again soured. I fear he will turn from me based only on imaginary slights.”  
Brynja pressed a kiss to my lips. “He shall not. Agron’s heart is difficult to know, but none hold it as surely as you. I shall break words when he comes to see me today,” she promised. I managed a smile and nodded, urging her to return to her duties.


	7. Brief Days of Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Agron and Nasir work the whole Castus thing out, Brynja longs for them to see reason. When Crixus announces his plan to attack on Rome, Brynja chooses to remain with her beloved brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh* We're getting closer and closer to the end of the show, but we are actually just barely halfway through the fic. I purposely do not describe battle because 1: blood makes me super woozy; 2: I do not understand military strategy in the slightest (would you believe my best friend is in the military? I'm ashamed of myself.) and 3: I can't even fight, so even hand-to-hand combat is far beyond my descriptive powers. I'll instead be exploring their journey after the final battle and the emotional balms and injuries it holds! Thank you for taking the time to read; I really appreciate it!

*Agron*  
After strategy meeting ended, Gannicus grabbed my elbow. “I would have unfortunate words, brother,” he said.  
“Speak mind,” I entreated with a nod. The Celt crossed his arms and cleared his throat, uncomfortable.  
“I… The Gaul girl, the one you protect? I fear she has betrayed trust.”  
I felt blood drain from face. “Who did you see her with? She does not stand hurt, does she? Find voice!”  
Gannicus grimaced. “She stands unharmed… but was with Nasir. I saw her and your Syrian yesterday in passionate embrace. I care not for what the girl does, save she continues to heal, but Nasir is your heart.”  
I sighed in relief, much to Gannicus’ confusion. “Apologies, you stand mistaken. Nasir and I… we have taken the girl to our arms. It is complicated, but know that she stands to me as Nasir does, and they to each other.”  
Gannicus laughed. “You crazy fuck. As if a Syrian was not challenge enough to satisfy, you now attempt to sate a Gaul woman as well?”  
“You know from experience, brother: the appetites of those of us from the Lands East of the Rhine are vast beyond imagining,” I grinned, referring to his adventures with Saxa. He laughed again, throwing his head back and laughing with his whole being as only Gannicus could.  
“Ah, brother, heart stands relieved to see you in such spirits,” he commented. “Now if, you will excuse my taking leave, I am far too sober for the hour.”  
I chuckled to myself as he left, turning a few corners before finding Spartacus in stern conversation with Nasir. “Agron stands a brother,” I heard Spartacus snarl. “I won’t have you betray his heart.”  
“I’ve done no such thing!” Nasir hissed. “Brynja is mine and she is Agron’s, and we are hers. No offense was caused, I promise you.” He looked up and sighed at the sight of me. “Tell Spartacus of our… arrangement with Brynja.”  
“Nasir speaks truth,” I assured Spartacus. “Gratitude for your concern, but it is not required. Brynja is as much a part of me as Nasir is.”  
Spartacus studied Nasir and me closely as I wrapped my arm around Nasir’s shoulders. “Do you think this wise? Giving your hearts to Brynja and to one another?”  
I shrugged. “We seek to wrest whatever joy can be had in this life, and Brynja is a joy we would not deny ourselves.”  
“Nor would she deny herself the joy we offer,” Nasir added. “Our days may be few, and there is no reason to turn from such things.”  
Many days later, when we had been forced from the city into the cold, I found Brynja and Nasir offering a spare blanket to Castus and had to bite back my jealousy. Was that fucking Cilician to take both my lovers from arms? My fear on Brynja’s part was quickly relieved; when Castus clasped her hand in gratitude, she pulled away as if she’d been burned and I heard her snarl, “Do not touch me!”  
She hurried away, head down, and collided with my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to calm her shivering form. “What is wrong? Why are you so afflicted?”  
Brynja looked up at me, her blue eyes swimming in tears, and whispered, “His hands so resemble Buranhu’s that I dreamed it was Buranhu reaching for me from the afterlife.”  
I kissed the top of her head. “Buranhu wouldn’t see you to his side so soon; the man is but patient, and shall embrace you when your time comes. Until then, stay far from the Cilician shit; just because Nasir harbors friendship for the man does not mean you must.”  
Nasir jogged up to us. “What happened?”  
Brynja was still in tears, so I explained. “Apologies, Brynja, I did not think,” Nasir told her, his thick brows furrowing. “Remain away from his presence.” Nasir kissed the tears from Brynja’s cheeks. She nodded and hurried away, mumbling something about her presence being required in the infirmary. Nasir sighed and said, “Speak mind, I know you stand angry.”  
“What do I have to do to get you to stay away from him? Shall he, too, be accepted into your heart?” I challenged gruffly.  
“Castus is but a friend, and not one as Brynja was. He left his people, Agron, and I fear I am his only friend yet here.” Nasir pleaded with his eyes for me to understand, and fuck the gods, but I did understand. I growled and took my leave. That night, Brynja slept between us as usual, but Nasir did not reach for me across her back, and my heart broke.  
*Brynja*  
The tension between the two halves of my heart was unbearable. I had never felt so torn, although Agron’s and Nasir’s quarrel had nothing to do with me. I wanted only for it to end. On the nights when they reached for one another, I often slipped from their grasps, opting instead to observe the strength of my lovers’ arms, the heat they created together. I loved to watch them, and they both preened under my eyes, gripping a little tighter, swearing a little louder, biting a little harder when my eyes were upon them.  
Now, though, if I tried to slip away, one would grab my waist and pin me against the chest of the other, lavishing sucking kisses and nips down my throat and chest as I craned my neck to be captured in a kiss by the man behind me.  
I loved both men with all my heart, and I tried desperately to set things to the way they were before Castus made unfortunate appearance, but Agron refused reason and Nasir refused to turn from Castus. No number of my tears could change that, no amount of begging and bribing with kisses and quick embraces would change the way things were now.  
So, when my brother and Naevia decided to break from Spartacus and his men, I told my lovers from the beginning that I planned to remain with Crixus. “I take with Crixus,” I announced when we had all collapsed onto our bed, tangled and sated.  
“You would leave us now, Brynja? When we are so close to freedom? Please, stay,” Nasir begged, lifting his head from where he had buried his face in my neck.  
“You have never shown any desire for blood and battle before, little pearl,” Agron murmured, his lips still in my hair. “Why do you now wish for them?”  
“I do not wish for them, and I do not abandon hope for freedom. I know that Crixus and his men will suffer greatly; my skills could see them closer to victory. I wish to see Rome fall, for all they have done to me and to all those I love,” I replied, tangling my hand in Nasir’s hair.  
“Remain,” Agron urged, “Remain with us, with Spartacus. Remain in our protection, in our arms.”  
“You have not been long enough here,” Nasir whispered into my skin. “We would not lose you so soon.”  
I kissed them both deeply. “We have a few days before split is made, and we shall make the most of them. But when time comes, I will be at my brother’s side.”  
They shared a look before nodding solemnly. “Do not die,” Agron requested, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “Gods, Brynja, please be safe.”  
“When Rome falls, we shall come for you,” Nasir promised as he leaned up to kiss my lips chastely. “And together, when all this fighting is over, we will build a life, have a family.”  
I nodded, tears beginning to fall. “I would very much like to see children in your arms, give them the childhood Nasir and I never knew.”  
Agron bit back tears of his own and replied, “We’ll give them a life like mine and Duro’s, they’ll grow up far from the grasp of Rome. We can go to Gallia.”  
I laughed and shook my head, “You would not last a day without killing six of my countrymen.”  
“I would be by the sea,” Nasir offered. “With a boat to catch fish and animals to tend and a garden.”  
Agron and I both considered this and nodded. “By the sea, then,” I promised, “we will build our family.”  
The following days passed in a rush of desperate kisses and drawn out embraces, till the night before the departure arrived. I stayed close to Agron’s elbow the entire night, never straying for more than a moment. I did not know when I would see him again until Nasir joined us in conversation. Trying to make light of the situation, he ignored the fact that I would be leaving alongside my brother, until Agron shattered Nasir’s world.


	8. Victorious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look into Nasir's heart when separated from his lovers, along with an equally brief description of Brynja's and Agron's experiences. There is blood, there is a hint of almost-smut, and by the gods there is angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting more quickly than I planned due to the fact that I move home in a few short days and will not have adequate bandwidth to post when I'm there. This chapter literally broke my heart to write. I was even on the edge of crying, which does not often happen to me. Agron and Nasir are just so interesting to write from at this point (which is my stone-cold way of saying that they feel so much so deeply that it is almost difficult for someone like me to comprehend) and I've found it oddly satisfying to look at the world through their eyes. Don't get me wrong, it's horrible, but there is a strange hope that comes from seeing such a hopeless outlook and, ultimately, knowing the outcome.

*Nasir*  
Fuck the gods, what would happen next? Who else would leave me? I supposed that, truly, no one else could rip out my heart as Brynja and Agron had, as no one else held it. Still, although I was furious with them both for leaving me behind, I hoped they could protect one another: Agron could protect Brynja from sustaining a wound, and Brynja could protect Agron from succumbing to any.  
That night, when I was inside Brynja and Agron inside me, I swear we split the heavens with our goodbyes. I had never known such a thing as having two lovers, both of my choosing, but I dreaded their loss. How was I to regain senses when they were gone?  
It turned out that I had no other choice. Training still needed to be done, attacks still had to be planned, and I took Agron’s place on Spartacus’ council, as Gannicus took Crixus’, finally shouldering the responsibility Spartacus had pressed him toward with the nudging of gentle Sibyl.   
Now and then, groups of liberated slaves would join us, and I would flit frantically among them, searching for news of Agron and Brynja. “Did you see a German, tall and strong enough to strike fear into any Roman shit, with green eyes and a scar upon his chest?” I would ask, my words nearly running together as they spilled out. When whomever I spoke to nodded, I would continue, pressing, “And a woman, a medicus, pale of skin, with eyes the color of the sea and hair like the sky at sunset?”  
Few had seen her, as they had no reason to seek a medicus. Although news of Agron came readily, of Brynja’s whereabouts, I knew next to nothing. Spartacus and Gannicus reassured me as best they could. “Agron yet lives; do you think that while he draws breath, any could lay hand upon Brynja?” Gannicus reasoned with me as Sibyl clutched my hand.   
“What if camp was attacked from flank in battle?” I worried. “What if she is already gone from this world?”  
“Remove it from thoughts,” Spartacus ordered. “I would have you train the newest recruits with Castus. Set mind to task, or see it lost with worry.”   
*Brynja*  
We were victorious. Battle after battle, by Agron’s and Crixus’ strategy, we were victorious over the beast Rome. I tended the wounded faithfully, but there were always one or two whom even I could not save.   
Liberated slaves swelled our ranks, and I took on two apprentices. They watched over the wounded at night, and fetched me should any take unfortunate turn. Theodoulos was a young Thracian man with a terrible limp; like me, he could not fight, but refused to accept uselessness. Aveza was a woman from Agron’s homelands, and she rarely offered any explanation for why she sought my instruction.  
Hours after victory, when Crixus and Agron had convened and I had treated and mended all the wounds that I could, Theodoulos and Aveza would assure me that they could watch over the wounded and I would go to Crixus’ tent. There, I embraced my brother tightly and blessed Vulcan for protecting him. Then, with a quick smile and chaste kiss, Agron and I would take our leave and retreat to our tent.  
The next day, bearing bruises from tight fingers and harsh, nipping teeth, I would return to my charges, where one of the apprentices slept and the other kept watch, having taken shifts throughout the night, and see them all ready to move. We were for Rome.  
That is, until, Rome was within our sight. Perhaps we were all overconfident that day; nothing could stop us, we knew it. Theodoulos and Aveza were helping me to mend a wound where stitches had been untimely ripped out. As I tied off the last stitch, the Romans came into our camp.  
I should have learned to fight I thought desperately as I grabbed a sword and stepped in front of my patient. The Greek laughed and took the sword from me. “I will go to the afterlife as I should,” he told me, “Protecting those who have cared for me.”  
After that, everything happened too quickly for me to keep track of it; we were surrounded and told to begin walking. I pushed through the crowd, unable to see over heads, desperately searching for Crixus and Agron.  
They had to live. They had to. No one could kill the two greatest warriors in our force. I caught a glimpse of Naevia riding away, propped up on a horse and holding onto a gruesome parcel dripping blood. I knew what it was before the man next to me confirmed, “We will all follow in the Undefeated Gaul’s wake. He was beheaded.”  
I fell to my knees. Truly, now, I was without family. Three brothers had died before my birth, dying honorably in raids and battles with rival tribes. In the raid when I’d been taken, my parents had died at Roman hands. Now, both Skender and Crixus had fallen to Rome, as well. I sobbed my sorrow until I heard a familiar voice say, “Brynja, stand. Buranhu was right; you will hold my life in your hands this day.”  
Agron stood before me, leaning heavily on one of his countrymen. He bled heavily and seemed to be barely retaining consciousness. “You truly are protected by Vulcan,” he wondered breathlessly. “Thank the gods you yet live.”  
I could not speak, so I did what I did best: I stitched up his wound and bandaged it; it would have been easier if I could have him laying on a table, but he stayed still as I worked. “That should hold for now; if I could burn wound closed, I would, but I haven’t the means. If it opens before destination is reached, I will find a way.”  
Pale and clammy from blood loss and pain, Agron nodded. “Gratitude, little pearl. Please, stay at my side. I would not have you from my sight.”  
“You could not drive me from your side in this state, Agron. I will see you back to form or be killed in attempt,” I promised fiercely. Agron winced and kissed the top of my head.  
“You will do no such thing. If the Romans learn I am a general, they will attempt to drag information of the rebel army from my lips. You will stay far from me if that happens,” he said gruffly.  
“Agron, you will be killed!” I protested.  
“Then I will die protecting you and Nasir and all the innocents traveling with Spartacus! Brynja, I do not fear the afterlife. I only fear losing you and Nasir. If the Romans discover my fear, they will use it against me; they will harm you in attempt to draw information from me. Would you allow that to happen? I fear that if they lay hand upon you, words will spill forth to protect you,” Agron whispered fiercely, looking around to be sure no Romans overheard his words.  
*Agron*  
The Romans did recognize me, and they endlessly beat and tortured me, assuring me that if I but gave them Spartacus’ battle plans, my suffering would end. Each day, Brynja, tending my wounds but not speaking to me, would try to stop them.  
“This man is for the afterlife!” she protested as they pushed her aside. “He will perish long before information sought is given!”   
“And why do you care?” one would ask. “Does he hold meaning to you?”  
Brynja was a terrible liar, but the Romans hardly heard her reply. “He is my charge,” she told them. “I am a medicus and I would not see one in my care treated so!”  
“Be gone from us, woman!” I dismissed. “You reek of Gallia and I would die absent its stench.” Gods, it twisted knife within wound to speak to her in such a way, but it did the trick. The Romans did not suspect.   
When they nailed me to the cross, I stood pleased that Brynja did not make attempt to stop them. Her reason was shown when I was hoisted up, and I saw her in the arms of Theodoulos. She strained against him, but he held fast, and Aveza kept a tight hand over Brynja’s mouth that she would not cry out. Her tears spilled over and she sank to her knees, turning into the embraces of her apprentices.  
I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next two or three days. I often woke to a wet cloth at my mouth at night. “Drink, love,” Brynja urged before hoisting bread up to me as well. “Eat, quickly.”  
“Brynja,” I croaked, “You must leave.”  
“I will once you have eaten and drank,” she promised.   
“Brynja, I am already for the afterlife,” I pleaded with her. “Be away from me that you will not be as well.”  
On the third night of this exchange, Romans came to see if I had finally perished. “You!” one shouted at Brynja. “What are you doing?”  
“Go, little pearl,” I urged desperately. “Run.”  
Instead, she turned the spear she had used to bring water and bread to my lips on them. “Stay back! I told you, this man is under my care and will not perish while he is yet there!”  
As the Romans batted her spear away and set upon her, I would have screamed for them to stop if I was able. As it was, I could only watch as my precious little pearl was mercilessly beaten and left lying on the ground.  
*Nasir*  
Each night, I assured myself that the next tale of Crixus’ victory would be of one over Rome. I had nearly convinced myself to believe it when Naevia returned.  
She had no news of Brynja, only that Brynja had been unharmed until they left for that last battle; after that, she knew nothing. But she knew Agron had fallen on the battlefield. With this news, my heart seized within chest, and I stumbled away as if drunk. Castus was waiting at my tent, but I pushed him aside, waving away his frantic questions. When I thought he was gone, I dropped to my knees, clutching my chest, and screamed my agony to the heavens.  
Agron is dead. Agron is dead. Agron is dead. Agron is dead. Agron is dead. Agron is dead.  
I didn’t realize at the time that I was speaking my thoughts, but Castus would later tell me that for hours, these were the only words from my lips, uttered time after time in an unbroken loop. I did not even know he had stayed, but I did not sleep that night; I only stared at the ground before me, not moving from my knees, and repeated the words, “Agron is dead.”


	9. Return to Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Brynja are reunited with Nasir, but things are not as they once were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and offering feedback! It's very encouraging!

*Nasir*  
The sun rose and set three times before I left my tent. Sibyl brought food, which I ate a bit of without tasting. She ordered me to sleep, which I did wrapped in Agron’s cloak and clutching Brynja’s old dress, which she had not worn since stealing my coat.   
After three days, Spartacus ordered me to return to training recruits; a new batch had come in. It was there that I had my confrontation with Castus, there that I lost mind to grief and he held me and put me back together.   
I do not know how many days passed before Tiberius and his men were delivered to us, nor how long before Korre was traded for the fellow rebels. It seemed, to me, an eternity. The only comfort was taking a life for Agron’s; though it would take thousands of Roman lives to slake my bloodlust, I treasured the one I was allowed to end.  
If I could choose a moment in my life to relive, it would be seeing Agron’s face when I thought him gone. In that moment, though he was barely standing, shuffling along only with the support of Spartacus, all was right in the world. If Agron was alive, what could be wrong in the world?   
It turned out that there could be everything wrong with the world. Agron could not grip sword, could barely walk on his own more than a few steps.   
A moment after I processed that Agron was, in fact, alive, I asked, “Brynja?”  
Agron visibly deflated, turning to gesture to a few men carrying a makeshift litter. Upon it lay Brynja, and she seemed in even worse shape than Agron. She was thin to the point of concern, nearly as bad as she had been when Buranhu died, covered in deep bruises and cuts. All of this was of little concern compared to the fact that she didn’t seem to be stirring. “She collapsed a day into our return,” Agron told me. “She has not stirred since, but she yet draws breath.”   
I nodded, biting lip, and took Spartacus’ place. “What happened?”  
Agron groaned, “We were defeated. Those Roman shits recognized me as one of Spartacus’ generals and tortured me, searching for information. Then they crucified me. Brynja… Jupiter’s cock, Brynja tried to protect me, tried to treat my wounds until they hung me on that fucking cross.” Agron choked, biting back bitter tears. “At night, she would reach water and half her rations up to me with a spear. She was caught and beaten the night before Korre returned.”  
As we reached our tent, the men brought Brynja in and set the litter down as Agron sat. I offered them my gratitude and lifted Brynja into the bed as they left. Agron stretched out beside her, wincing in pain and groaning. My heart shattered seeing my two loves in such pain. I stood watch as Agron fell asleep.  
Brynja did not wake till late that night, when she sat up and cried out, “No! Agron!”  
I rushed to her side, grabbing her hands and easing her onto her back. “Hush, hush, be still, Brynja. You’re safe, Agron is safe, the gods have returned you both to my arms,” I whispered in her ear.   
Blue eyes wild and full of tears, Brynja stared at me blankly for a moment before a spark of recognition flashed in her eyes. “Nasir? Where is Agron? Are you hurt? Does he yet draw breath?”  
I cupped her cheek gently. “Turn head and see question answered. Agron sleeps beside you, pearl, and he will live. I am unharmed, and you are safe.”   
Tears spilled onto pale, freckled cheeks. “Apologies, I was foolish to ever take with Crixus, and to allow Agron to follow. Nasir, I beg you, forgive,” Brynja sobbed.   
I wrapped her in my arms. “Brynja, love, I forgive. I hold only gratitude for you and Agron. You have returned to me, yet of this world, when I thought you for the next. Be still, sleep, and see sunrise with food and recovery for you both.”  
She bit back the rest of her tears as I lay beside her, nestling her petite body between mine and Agron’s, and she laid her head upon my shoulder. “Nasir…Oh, Nasir, we shall never leave your arms again.”   
I pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered, “When we’ve made it to the other side of the mountains, you will never again have reason.”  
Overcome by exhaustion, she allowed her eyes to drift shut, nuzzling into my warmth, her hips and ribs sharp under my hands. I reached for Agron, as well, running my hands along both bruised and broken bodies, reassuring myself each time I woke that night that my lovers were alive and in my bed.   
In the coming days, I saw Brynja fed and followed her instructions to speed healing of Agron’s wounds. She also aided in designing sword and shield for his final battle, though she had no hand for designing weapons. Brynja returned to form in no time; her wounds were not so severe as Agron’s. But she did not, as expected, return to the infirmary.   
*Agron*  
Brynja healed more quickly than I, but until she did, she refused to be torn from my side. Sibyl offered to make up a new bed for her so that she could have her space, but Brynja clung to me until tears began to flow. I had no clue what was going on, but waved Sibyl away with mouthed words of gratitude, running hands along Brynja’s spine till she calmed and fell asleep.   
“Little pearl,” I whispered in her ear, not loud enough to wake her completely, but loud enough that voice was heard, “I love you. You are safe in my arms. No one will remove you from them. Soon, Nasir and I will build a house by the sea for you; we will fill your belly with children and we will care for and protect you as you cared for and protected me. We will have many children and they will be as beautiful as you and they will be free.”  
She mumbled contentedly, nuzzling closer to me; when Nasir entered the tent, he knelt next to the bed to whisper to me. “Does she show any improvement?” he asked.  
I nodded before shaking head. “Her wounds heal and she gains lost strength, yet she stands terrified of leaving my side, even to another bed. I do not understand it.”  
Nasir frowned, tucking a lock of Brynja’s hair behind ear. “She has lost much to the Romans. When she thought she would never again be shackled by them, she saw herself and you defeated, her brother and Buranhu dead, and had no knowledge of my well-being. With the Romans, you were all she had left, and she defended your life jealously. Now, she has not yet realized that you are safe, and would keep you close to heart and sight.” Nasir looked up, cupped my cheek, and leaned over Brynja to press a lingering kiss to my lips. “What of your wounds? Do they improve?”  
I snarled. “Romans have rendered hands useless, removed purpose from life. I am fucking waste of resources now.”  
Nasir shook head violently. “Do not say such things, Agron. Grab my hands.” When I did as commanded, he entreated, “Grip. Grip as tight as you can.” After a moment of futile attempt, Nasir nodded. “That’s tighter than last night. You heal, and until you can fight, you calm Brynja. You are not useless, and fucking Romans have not taken you from us. Do not give them this victory!”  
That fucking Syrian could get me to do anything. I nodded resolutely. “I will return to battlefield, with sword in hand or without.”   
Nasir sighed at my response and came to bed, pressing himself against Brynja and staring into my eyes as his pressed kisses to her neck and shoulders. Brynja stirred with a small, soft moan that went straight to both our cocks. “Why do you wake a sleeping woman?” she mumbled, and would have sounded quite disgruntled if not for the long moan that followed when Nasir bit and sucked at her pulse point.   
“I would watch my woman and my man make love,” I requested, “As you often watch Nasir and me.”  
Brynja’s breath caught and her eyes widened. “I would see wish fulfilled,” she whimpered, her voice breaking when Nasir reached down to tease her. I watched, enraptured, as Nasir continued his assault, until, with a sudden, heartbreaking sob, Brynja pulled away and launched herself into my arms.  
“Apologies, apologies, apologies!” she mumbled quickly around shaking sobs. “I… I lost mind! Nasir!” Brynja could barely speak for crying, and Nasir looked to me for guidance.  
I did the only thing I could do: I struggled to sit up, urging Brynja to do the same, and pulled her into my lap, embracing her tightly as I ran my hands over her hair and back, kissing the top of her head. “All is well, little pearl,” I whispered over and over, “You are safe. None will touch you absent your consent, not me, not Nasir, certainly no one else. We will protect you as we always have. You are safe. Nasir is unharmed. I am healing. All is well.”  
It seemed to take centuries for Brynja to calm down. Nasir looked heartbroken, certainly, but he did not reach for Brynja; he seemed afraid to do so. “Little pearl, what happened?” he asked timidly. “Did I hurt you?”  
Brynja violently shook head. “No! Apologies, Nasir, it is only… for weeks I have been without welcome touch other than Agron’s. Without thought, I now fear any touch not from his hand. I know you will not hurt me, I only need time,” she explained. She looked humiliated.  
Nasir’s eyes softened. “Brynja, love, take all the time you need! You are here, you are safe, and that is all I would have in this world. If my touch becomes too much to bear, make it known before mind is lost again, yes?”   
Brynja nodded, taking Nasir’s hand and holding it to her heart for a long moment, allowing him to feel her heart slowing and calming. As soon as he was satisfied that she felt safe, we all took to dreams.  
*Nasir*  
I watched Agron and Brynja sleep, replaying the earlier scene in my head over and over. Never before had Brynja so much as flinched around me; where once she had feared Agron and clung to me, she now shrank from my touch and retreated to the safety of Agron’s arms.   
Of course, I could not fault her for it; Agron had been her only companion for quite some time. I only knew that had they both stayed, none of this would be happening now, and for that, I stood saddened. I wished only for Agron to again grip sword and for Brynja to accept me into her arms.  
When we woke, I barely caught myself before pressing a kiss to Brynja’s lips. Her eyes filled as she looked up at me, an apology forming on her lips. “Nasir… love, listen,” she started. I held up a hand to stop her.  
“Little pearl, do not apologize or attempt to explain. It is not needed,” I smiled at her as best I could. “You once told me that things do not always change as quickly as we say they will, and that yet stands true. Remain from my arms as long as you must that you may, one day, return. I am satisfied knowing you are safe and unharmed. Now, I must take my leave and see to training.”  
“I love you,” she whispered, tears spilling.  
I bit back my own tears and replied, “And I, you. You’ll be my wife one day, love, so stay safe until that day comes.” And, with a quick kiss to Agron’s still-sleeping lips, I left.


	10. Medicus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brynja seeks to set right the Romans' final crime against her and has a long heart-to-heart with Spartacus. There is all the fluff and a teensy bit of angst. But mostly fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be interesting to explore how my OFC would interact with Spartacus. I think that, both having lost so many people they loved, Spartacus and Brynja would understand each other very well. As always, thank you for reading and providing feedback; you all make it worth the extreme vulnerability of posting fan fiction!

*Brynja*  
I could never allow what had happened the night before to reoccur. Although Nasir did not stand angered by the events, I was furious with myself for mistaking Nasir’s touch for a violent hand. It was another day before I was strong enough to leave the tent, but I could tend to Agron’s wounds and move about our space a little. After changing Agron’s bandages, I instructed him on flexing his hands and fingers, kneeling between his legs as he sat at the edge of the bed.  
“Jupiter’s cock!” he groaned when he tired. “Enough!”  
I shook my head. “Once more, Agron, then rest. Trust your medicus,” I added with a small smile. Agron rolled his eyes before complying, grunting in pain and exertion. “Excellent,” I praised him with a giddy kiss on the lips. “You improve! Fucking Romans stand in failure again, trying to lame the German Beast!”  
Agron’s angry scowl turned to a grin at my words, knowing I rarely used foul words and sought to cheer him. “You have all my gratitude, Brynja. Without you, I may not have survived, and if I had, I would have become a cripple. What can I do to repay your favors?” he asked.  
I looked down, pressing gentle kisses to Agron’s knuckles, and whispered, “Teach me to fight.” Embarrassed, I did not look up when Agron sucked in a slow breath, obviously surprised by my request.  
“Why?” Agron tipped up my chin and looked at me seriously.   
He didn’t want to do it. My cheeks flushed and I looked away. “Forget this happened, I should not ask such a thing from you,” I muttered, standing and swaying on my feet.  
“Brynja, I have longed to teach you to fight since the day Gaufrid threatened to kill you,” Agron pleaded with me, clumsily grabbing my hand and pulling me to sit in his lap. “But you have been so set against such a path, I did not dare suggest it. Why have you now turned to embrace this thing that you once despised?”  
I sighed. “I wish to be able to protect myself. I tire of being at the mercy of those stronger than me when you and Nasir are not near. I would be strong like you.”  
Agron chuckled and kissed my temple. “Sweet little pearl, you are the strongest woman I’ve ever known. Nasir and I will teach you to fight, but you must swear to me that you will not attempt to engage in final battle. I would have you safe and able to heal the wounded. Do you swear it?”  
I nodded. “I swear it.” I pressed a kiss to Agron’s lips and he smiled. “When will lessons begin?”  
“When Nasir returns. There is only so much instruction I can offer without use of hands.” Agron furrowed his brow. “Fucking Romans.”  
I cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead as he often did when I was upset. “They stand in failure, having sought to end your life. Instead, you are back in the arms of your beloved ones, and you gain strength each day. Despite all their efforts to shackle and beat and kill you, you stand a free man, Agron.”   
Agron’s bright green eyes filled with tears. “It is because of you I yet live, and for you and Nasir that my heart beats. I will heal for you, Brynja, and one day soon, I will carve out a living with these hands that the Romans tried to destroy,” he promised shakily.  
Overcome with emotion, I could not find words; instead, I pressed kisses to Agron’s lips. “Emotions run high in such times,” I said shakily a few moments later. “I would have laughter in your heart again.”  
We sat reminiscing of simpler times, when the rebel army stood but a few freed slaves, until Nasir returned. I prepared evening meal as Nasir and Agron discussed the best way to teach me to fight. They decided upon hand-to-hand combat with a small knife, something I could keep in my coat or tuck into the waist of my trousers.  
Until the moon was high, the two instructed; I grappled uselessly time and again with Nasir as Agron called instructions from the bed. Over and over, I was bested; when the moon was at its highest point, I finally pinned Nasir down and held knife to throat. He smiled widely. “Excellent!” he praised. “You learn even more quickly than expected, little pearl. Soon, you will stand able to defeat any who would bring you harm!”  
I bent and pressed a kiss to his lips. “My instructors stand patient and capable, I commented, standing and extending hand to Nasir. “Gratitude for lessons taught.”  
“Lessons will continue at sunset tomorrow. For now, I am yet too tired for such things,” Nasir added, dropping to the bed beside Agron and pulling him in for a long kiss. He sighed and smiled, first at Agron, then at me as I joined them. “No man has ever stood so blessed. For weeks, I feared you both for the afterlife. Now, the gods see you both back to my arms.”  
Agron grimaced. “There were many times when I feared it would not be so for either of us, like when Brynja broke that fucking Roman’s nose,” he commented.  
Nasir turned wide, disbelieving eyes on me. “Find tongue and tell of events,” he commanded.  
I blushed and looked down at my lap. “In prisoner camp, I was tending wounds of as many as I could, but Agron stood most gravely wounded; I was often at his side. When a Roman attempted to use me as whore, and capture mouth in unwelcome kiss, I introduced his nose to hardest part of skull, with all the ferocity I could muster. The man now stands with a very crooked nose indeed, though I think I did him a blessing,” I added. At Nasir’s and Agron’s confounded expressions, I explained, “Not only would Agron have torn head from body if he had laid hand, but now the man cannot smell the Roman shit he mires himself in.”  
Nasir and Agron dissolved into uproarious laughter, startling me nearly off the bed with it. I warned them with a glare not to see me from our bed, and they offered kisses and apologies as payment. “I would have other retribution,” I announced.   
“Give voice and see it paid,” Agron replied, laughter still evident in his voice.  
“Touch yet stands frightening thing for me, but not so for the two of you. I would have you spend the night absent my eyes or touch while I see to Naevia, and have the two of you as you once were,” I requested gently. I knew Nasir craved loving touch, and would not request it when I could not give it. Agron had been so doting on me in the past days, and I knew Nasir would care for him.  
Both the men’s shoulders slumped as their mouths fell open. “This is your request?” Nasir asked, disbelieving. “Such a selfless thing?”  
I shrugged. “Your happiness is my joy, Nasir. There are things I cannot offer you, but I would not see you or Agron absent loving touch. Fall to each other’s embrace absent thought of my well-being, and just for a night, see things as they once were. I’ll return at morning light.” With that, I left the tent in search of Naevia.  
I stood pleased to find her sleeping soundly, but was now without distraction or place to lay head for the night. I wandered the camp before coming upon Spartacus sitting in the stands of the makeshift arena. “The great commander of the rebel army never sleeps,” I commented, sitting beside him. “What keeps head from falling to rest?”  
“Concern that we are not yet ready for final battle,” Spartacus admitted. “I fear that many will lose lives in final stand against Rome.”  
I nodded thoughtfully. “You stand lucky to have so many loyal who would follow you to the underworld and back.”  
Spartacus smiled a rare smile for me and asked, “How do you and yours fare?”  
I shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Nasir cares for Agron and me as wounds heal and strength is regained. This is the first time I’ve left our tent in days.”  
“Why are you not in lovers’ arms?”  
I sighed and looked down. “Nasir’s touch… I have been long absent it, but mind often mistakes it for Roman hands upon me. Any touch but Agron’s stands a frightening thing to me now.” Biting my lip, I looked up at Spartacus and added, “I left so that they could be as once they were, if only for a night. Nasir deserves to hold someone unbroken after all that he has been through.”  
Carefully, not wishing to frighten, Spartacus took my hands. “You stand unbroken, Brynja. Take what time you need to heal yourself so you may return to healing the wounds of all. Half the men in this camp owe you their lives. You will again accept Nasir’s loving touch, and Romans shall never again lay hand upon you.” After a moment, he added, “Your brother was a great man, Brynja. He loved you and stood proud to call you his kin.”  
“He was a great man,” I agreed. “I am now without any family in the world.”  
Spartacus smiled balefully at me. “And yet you stand unbroken, in the arms of men who love you and would give their lives for you, and you hold the memories of Crixus to heart. Know that we are all proud and blessed to have you as our medicus. Your strength has been a great asset these years.”  
Tearfully, I nodded, coughing to chase tears away before asking, “What will you do after final battle? What will the great Spartacus do as a free man far from Roman grasp?”  
He chuckled. “I have not yet given it thought. I suppose you have?”  
I nodded. “Nasir would be by the sea, fishing and tending animals for meat and milk, a garden for food. As in most things, Agron and I stand helpless to his desires.”  
“Would they have children, as well? Sura and I often dreamed of raising a family together.” A great sadness flitted across Spartacus’ face before he smiled reassuringly at me.  
I leaned on the shoulder of my melancholy friend. “Agron and Nasir have promised to give me many children. I bless the gods that they will have two fathers. One father may not be enough for any child fathered by either of the two.” When Spartacus laughed loudly, I added in a more serious tone, “They would be blessed to have an uncle nearby, you know. You will always be welcome in our home.”  
He nodded thoughtfully. “I could carve out my remaining days as a fisherman. I do not suppose I stand too set in my ways to learn new ones, absent blood and battle.”   
I smiled and said, “Give it much thought, but know that I will await your arrival on cliffs of Britannia.”   
“Britannia? You travel opposite suspected direction?”  
I laughed. “I have not yet put plan to Agron and Nasir, but as Nasir wishes only for the sea and Agron offered a life in my homeland, I doubt I will be denied. If he was willing to spend life with Gauls, I cannot imagine him saying no to any of my desires.”  
“It did not always stand so. I remember time when Nasir feared for your safety, Agron hated you so. Now I fear for safety of anyone who dares so much as lay eyes in a manner Agron does not approve of,” Spartacus commented. “I feared for your safety as well, and I ordered Agron not to lay hand. I thought he would tear my head off!” he laughed heartily.   
“It is because of Nasir that I now stand as I do; without him, Agron may just have ignored command and seen me dead.” I shook my head and we sat in silence for a few moments before I said, “I never expressed gratitude for freeing Buranhu and Ninnian and me from bondage. Know, Spartacus, that you have all of the gratitude in my heart, and all that was in Buranhu’s as well.”  
He offered a warm embrace. “No gratitude is needed, Brynja. Never should a person be a slave, especially one such as you, who were raised absent freedom of choice. Nasir used to tell me of the horrors you both endured. Apologies that they did not all cease when you fled Roman grasp.”  
I frowned at the sand beneath my feet. “There is no balm that can erase scars of past.”  
“You would know,” Spartacus offered with a smile.  
I returned his grin before continuing, “But I no longer stand fearful. Nasir and Agron offer instruction in combat so that I may defend myself, should Gaufrid or any others again bare teeth against me.”  
Spartacus nodded approvingly. “Well then, see skills put to test. If you best me, I’ll sleep well knowing our medicus, trained only for a night, stands ready. If not, I will offer further instruction.”  
I nodded, a bit nervous to test skill against him, but his instruction would prove helpful. He bested me easily, and I earned a bruise on jaw for misplaced effort, but after a few bouts, I finally pinned the mighty Spartacus. He smiled. “See self to bed; Agron and Nasir will have worn one another out by now, and your improvement eases mind. Sleep well, medicus.”


	11. Out of the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very brief transition from war to peace, from turmoil to calm. Fluff, fluff, angst, a little more fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how short this is, but it was the natural place to stop for the chapter. I promise the next chapter will be longer. We are almost done with the sad and/or angry parts of this fic, and getting so close to the happy parts!

*Nasir*  
Agron rested head on my chest, both of us spent and heaving for breath. I raked hands through his short hair as he sighed, saying, “Even the gods do not know the pleasure I find in your arms.”  
“But?” I asked, sensing what was to come. He missed Brynja, as did I.   
“But I would not be absent our Gaul any longer.” He looked up at me, seeming apologetic. He relaxed when I nodded. Before conversation could continue, Brynja returned, sporting dark bruise upon cheek and a smile that rivaled the sun.  
Agron snarled as he sat up, ignoring what I was sure was great pain from wounds. I leapt to feet, snapping, “Who hurt you?”  
Brynja’s brow furrowed, confused. “What seizes mind? I am unhurt.”  
I stepped forward and placed gentle fingers on the bruise, realizing a moment too late that she stood yet afraid of me. I snatched my hand away, stepped back with a mumbled apology. “Your cheek, it betrays wound.”  
Brynja smiled, coming close and bringing my hand to rest on her cheek. “Naevia was asleep, so I took walk to clear mind. I found Spartacus in arena, and we broke words before he offered instruction. Bruise serves as reminder not to let down guard or make unwise attack, but I did best him once. He reminded me of your love and of Agron’s, and I would no longer see myself from your arms.”  
I did not comprehend her words; just a day ago, she flinched from my touch. Now, she lifted herself on tiptoe to press hungry kiss to my mouth. “Tomorrow,” she whispered in my ear, but loud enough for Agron to hear as well, “I would have you both inside me, and make love to shake the heavens.” She then joined Agron in bed and fell straight to slumber when I entered her outstretched arms.   
In the coming days, we fucked whenever possible, sometimes all three of us, other times with one watching as the other two moved in tandem. In spare moments, when Agron slept, Brynja and I fashioned weapon for him based on design earlier forged, and Brynja finally returned to her position as medicus.   
Soon, the day came to face Romans in final battle. Agron and I found Brynja preparing a wagon with our possessions as well as weapons and medical supplies. “We leave presently,” Agron announced. “Nasir and I will travel with Spartacus. Remain at safe distance; do not allow yourself to be captured. If you are captured, you will be crucified, so take down as many Romans in meantime as possible.”  
Brynja nodded, and her cheeks colored with excitement. “I have wondrous news,” she announced. “And I will share it as soon as you swear not to take unnecessary risk; I would see you both back to my arms and will need you both on journey to Britannia.” When Agron and I both nodded our agreement, she whispered, “I am with child.”  
*Agron*  
Who could explain the joy I felt at that moment? My eyes filled as I took Brynja’s face into my hands and asked, “You are sure of it?” as Nasir fell to his knees and kissed Brynja’s belly, a grin splitting his face.  
Brynja nodded, tears falling. “I have not had blood for months; I even spoke to a midwife. I carry a child for you both in my belly, and will give birth in half a year’s time.”  
I kissed her ecstatically, laughing against her smile. Nasir stood to do the same, and I fell to my knees and bent my head to whisper to the child carried by the woman I loved. “Your mother, your baba, and I will see you safely away from Roman grasp,” I promised. “Be strong, little one, and know that you will not see this war.”  
Nasir and I had to leave her, and we fought side-by-side through the day. Whenever Nasir began to falter, fatigued, I shook him roughly and whispered, “We are fathers now, Nasir. There is no time for wavered resolve.”  
Likewise, when I did not think I could continue, Nasir gripped my elbow and said, “Carry on, Agron. For me. For Brynja. Especially for our child.”  
When the battle was over, lost, I could not believe that Spartacus, fucking Bringer of Rain, lay dying before us. Brynja scrambled to close wound, but he held up his hand. “All is well,” he assured us. “Do not weep for me. I rejoin loving wife, and we will rejoice for your freedom in the afterlife.”  
Brynja took his hand and laid it upon her belly. “The child I carry will know your name,” she promised, “And all that its uncle did to see it born free.”  
Spartacus smiled and whispered, “It gives me great joy to see your family begun.” He turned head to Nasir and me and said, “Go. My time comes; see your woman and child to safety. Go to Britannia and stay far from Roman grasp forever.” With that, the mighty Spartacus breathed his last.   
I bit back my tears for my fallen brother; Nasir and Brynja helped me to bury him beneath stones, and I left the weapon they had formed for me to mark his grave. Along with the few others who had survived, my family and I left for better days.


	12. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brynja reflects on the past months as she, Agron, and Nasir get nearer to their desired home.

*Brynja*  
For months, we had travelled, through a bit of Germania, but mostly through the lands of my birth. At one settlement, we sought out a priestess, who married us. The inn at which we stayed that night threw a celebration for us when we told them of our battles against the beast of Rome. Nasir and Agron drank altogether too much wine and promised me at least three times each that they would protect the child and me, that we would one day be as wealthy as my former masters, and that the other would pass out first. In the end, it was Nasir who first succumbed to sleep.  
Two months later, and I now had two husbands to care for me and my child. Some had heard of our rebellion against Rome, but it had now been days since we had seen another soul. I had grown heavy with child, but we had lost the wagon over a month before in a river. Nasir had saved the packs I kept, so we had a few cloaks and knives, but only a stanch bit of coin and no food. Agron had, thankfully, cut the horse from the wagon before it was swept away, and I spent most days upon its back. Nasir led the horse and Agron scouted ahead, finally able to grasp sword and eager to make use of this reclaimed skill.  
I will never forget the first night he sparred with Nasir after months away from the task. His smile rivaled the sun itself when he found he could grip the sword and wield it, and he and Nasir sparred for at least an hour before the pain grew to be too much. He had laughed and cursed as they fought, and he found that all he had learned, he had not lost. Out of breath, the two sat down on either side of me by the fire. “What man stands so blessed?” Agron had asked grandiosely. “I stand a warrior again, with a husband and wife, both so beautiful they put the stars to shame, and a child yet to come who will grow free and wild as the wind.”  
I chuckled, remembering the moment, and took a seat next to Nasir when we finished building the fire for the night.  
“Is the child well?” Nasir asked. He had seen me wince in pain as I helped build tent, and now he saw the pain upon my face in the firelight as Agron roasted the rabbits he had caught for us.  
I nodded. “The child is—“ I abruptly stopped talking as the life within me leapt.   
Nasir and Agron stared, terrified at me. “What is wrong?” Agron demanded. “What can we do?”  
I laughed loudly, laying my hand on my swollen belly and urging them to do the same. “Feel your child take after its vater and baba!” I wondered aloud. “It fights with all the ferocity of the rebel army, even absent adversary!”  
A week later, I stood exhausted, having had to walk for two days to give the horse rest. “Please,” I begged Agron and Nasir, “Please let me rest a few days. The child needs rest.”  
Agron and Nasir shared a look. “Mount horse again,” Nasir instructed. “Agron and I will carry the packs to relieve the horse. We will seek a few days rest at the next house or town we find.”  
After only a few hours, we came upon a large farmhouse, inhabited by an equally large family. Agron knocked at the door while Nasir waited with me. He stood next to the horse, rubbing my leg nervously, smiling up at me from time to time to reassure. A huge man opened the door, and we could hear their exchange.   
“Who are you?”  
“I am Agron of the Lands East of the Rhine. I travel with my husband, Nasir of Syria, and wife, Brynja of Gallia. We travel to Britannia, but my wife is heavy with child, and needs a few days’ rest. Nasir and I will work in exchange for a place to sleep, rest the horse, and food to fill bellies.” Agron had never sounded so humble in his life.  
The man smiled and shook Agron’s hand. “I am Conall. Come, see horse to stable and wife to a bed. You and your family will break noon meal before I find work for you and your husband.”  
Agron sighed in relief. “Much gratitude, my friend,” he told Conall before joining Nasir and helping me down from the horse.  
“Dubhshlaine!” Conall yelled into the house. “Come see guests’ horse to stable and proper feed!”   
A boy, no older than fifteen but already taller than Nasir, hurried out and took the horse from us. “Welcome to our farm,” he said brightly. Nasir handed the reins over to Dubhshlain as Agron placed a protective hand at the small of my back. He led Nasir and me into the house.  
Inside, a round, beautiful woman with ruddy cheeks and a wide smile greeted us. “Who do the gods bring to my home?” she asked, seeming endlessly pleased to see us.  
“I am called Nasir. This is my husband, Agron, and our wife Brynja.” Nasir gestured to each of us in turn.   
“Welcome! You have met my husband and my youngest son. My name is Inga, and this is my son Carloman,” she said as a young man, nearly twenty years old, entered the house. He was as tall as Agron, though slighter. He had not yet grown into himself. Inga turned her attention to me. “Brynja, is this child reason for seeking rest at this place?” she asked, placing her hands gently on swollen belly.  
“It is,” I responded with a soft chuckle. “I am yet months from giving birth, but the child takes after its fathers, contrary and stubborn. It does not care for days upon foot and horseback.”  
“Come, we will see you and child fed and put you down to rest,” Inga insisted, taking my arm. She urged us to sit at the massive oak table and brought mutton and fresh vegetables for us. Agron and Nasir watched as hawks as I ate my fill, and would not touch their food till they were both sure I had eaten.  
“Gratitude, Inga,” I said once the men had gone to work in the fields. “Your kindness is balm after a long period of only wounds.”  
“Repay it with stories,” Inga urged, “After you take a few hours rest. Come, I will see you to bed. When you wake, you can help with spinning of yarn and weaving it into cloaks for coming winter.”  
Inga showed me to a small mat, surely meant for guests of the house. With full belly and aching feet, I fell quickly to dreamless slumber, my hands cradling my belly and the life it held. After an hour or two, I rose and, rested, found Inga spinning yarn from wool. I sat and aided in task. “I would hear of how you came to have two husbands, from lands so different, and why you are travelling to Britannia of all places.”  
I smiled. “It is not a happy story,” I warned.   
“But it has happy ending, shown by your swollen belly and the love your husbands shower upon you,” she countered. “Come, entertain an old woman for a time. Tell me of your life, Brynja.”  
I relented. “Long ago, I lived with my parents and brothers in the Northern part of Gallia. I had five brothers, but three died before I was even born, and I do not remember their names. Crixus was taken from us when I had just learned to walk. When I had seen five winters, the Romans attacked our village, and my parents were killed. My brother Skender and I were taken and sold as Roman slaves. For two years, we served under the same house, until our dominus raised his hand against me. Skender intervened, threw himself under the blow meant for me. Our dominus sold me to a woman, the wife of his friend, and she renamed me Severina, saying Brynja was too savage a name for her slave. She trained me to be her body slave, and she sold my virginity when I had seen twenty-one winters. For the next year, she whored me out to visitors and friends, using my thighs to gain favor for her house.”   
My hands trembled with rage and I paused to gather myself. “That year, news of Skender’s death reached me. I was devastated, thinking my entire family was dead. My only comfort was in my lover, Buranhu, a man taken from Africa when he was a boy, but we could not be truly together; my domina forbade it. One night, Spartacus and his rebel army attacked the villa, and saw us free from bondage.” I smiled at the memory, recalling Laelia’s blood upon the floor. “Nasir quickly became most trusted friend, having also been a body slave, but our friendship stood a thing that brought Agron to great distress. I cannot count the number of times the German threatened my life, but Buranhu saw me well-protected.”  
“Why did Agron hate so quickly?” Inga asked, seeming distressed at the laughter I simply could not contain.  
“He saw my eyes upon Nasir and believed I would move to take Nasir from him. I yet stood loyal and loving woman to Buranhu, so my eyes upon Nasir were harmless, but Agron protects his own fiercely. It stood a good thing that I was reunited with Crixus, who had survived and become the Undefeated Gaul, a champion gladiator of Capua. When the rebellion yet stood a few errant slaves, Buranhu was struck down by the men of Glaber, a praetor of Rome.” I sighed and Inga clasped my hand in hers tightly.   
“Apologies. To lose a lover is one of the greatest pains a woman may ever know, second only to losing a child.”  
I nodded tearfully and cleared my throat before continuing. “In grief, I nearly joined Buranhu. I had risen to become the head medicus of the rebel army, and I continued to tend to my duties, but I feared sleep and food turned to ash within mouth. Crixus saw me to sleep by singing an old Gaul lullaby to me and holding me to heart. Nasir forced food upon me, waiting in my quarters and refusing to leave my side till I had swallowed a few bites.”  
“You were well-cared for,” Inga commented gently.  
“A year after Buranhu’s passing, I again began to take food and rest. My dreams were no longer haunted by Buranhu’s accusing gaze, and food regained palatability. I returned to form, but with no one to protect me and no strength or skill to defend myself, I was pursued ruthlessly by Gaufrid, one of Agron’s people. Agron had, unknown to me, come to forgive for my eyes on Nasir, and would count me as friend. He nearly killed Gaufrid one day, and I moved my quarters to near Nasir’s and Agron’s. Agron and I grew closer as he told me of what it was like to become a man with the taste of freedom upon lips. Before we left the city Sinuessa, Agron and Nasir had taken me to arms.”   
“How does your… arrangement… exist? Do Nasir and Agron not stand jealous of one another or of you when more affection is shown to one than the other? Who planted seed to give child?”  
“We have not stood jealous of one another yet, even when I favored Agron and feared Nasir’s touch. I do not know who planted seed within, and neither I nor Agron or Nasir care. The gods bless me, giving my child a vater, a mother, and a baba. If it takes after Agron and Nasir at all, it will need all three of us to keep it from seeing self to grave before reaching maturity.” I laughed.  
“You feared Nasir’s touch? Why? I would think that you would have stood afraid of Agron!”  
“Nearly a year ago now, Crixus and his woman Naevia led part of the rebel army against Rome itself, hoping to take the city. Thinking that Agron and Nasir would escape over mountains with Spartacus, I chose to stay with beloved brother, knowing his army would need my skills as medicus. I yet wished to see Rome bleed and fall for all they had done to me and mine, and would see all of Crixus’ men to form. The night before we left, Agron told us that he would take with Crixus as well.” I shook my head sadly. “For months, we reigned victorious over and over. Rome itself was within grasp! We were outmatched, and Crixus was beheaded for crimes before Naevia’s very eyes. Agron was gravely wounded, and all of us were taken captive.”  
Having spun as much yarn as we could with wool possessed, we moved to the loom and began weaving. “I do not know how long we remained in captivity. Agron was a respected general, and the Romans tortured him for information. Worse, though I tried to defend him, he would send me away harshly. He did not want them to know that he loved me, lest they should hurt me to draw information from him. When he yet stood unbroken, they… gods, they crucified him.” For a moment, the scene flashed before my eyes: Agron’s screams, his blood upon the ground as his already abused body was nailed and tied to cross, ruining his hands. I was unable to continue the story for several minutes.  
“Each night, I brought water to him, soaking a cloth with it and hoisting it up to his mouth with a spear, along with half my rations. He warned me to leave him, that he was already dead and would not see me to the afterlife as well, but I could not let him die absent loving touch. One night, I was found out. We were all starving and weak, and I was beaten roughly, left barely able to stand. The next day, the commander’s slave, Korre, returned from rebel camp in exchange for all of our lives. No one stopped us from taking Agron down, and for the first day, I would not be torn from him. I collapsed and did not wake again till we were in our tent at the rebel camp, Agron asleep beside me and Nasir keeping guard. For so long, Agron’s had been only welcome touch. When we stood strong enough to take loving embrace, mind mistook Nasir’s hand for Roman, and I cowered in Agron’s arms.”  
“Nasir could have been furious, but he was not. He taught me to fight, to defend myself, and Agron and Spartacus aided in instruction. When I stood able to repel unwanted touch, I again welcomed Nasir and went willingly to his arms.”  
“Just before final battle, I discovered I carried a child within me, and bade them to return to us. After hearing Spartacus’ final words, we began journey to Britannia. We seek a quiet life of fishing and farming, and would find it on the cliffs of Britannia, far from Roman grasp.”  
Inga’s eyes were full of tears as she listened, and she responded with a sigh and breathy words, “You were right. It is not a happy story. How can someone so young and beautiful as your family have already seen so much blood and battle and lost so much?”  
I shrugged. “Romans bring death and destruction wherever they pass, but I am glad for the battles we’ve seen. Buranhu and I would have died in slavery, though Buranhu prayed each day to die a free man at my side. I would never have known Agron or Nasir, or been reunited with Crixus. The child I carry would never have come to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about Gallic wedding ceremonies; if there's any interest in it, I could definitely do a bit of research and do a companion piece detailing the wedding ceremony and any other scenes that were sort of glossed over. Let me know in the comments if this is something you would be interested in (and let me know if you want it sexy, fluffy, angsty, or all three).


	13. Close to Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is going just as Agron had hoped, but he is yet doubtful. Mostly fluff with a little angst. Agron is such an angsty character!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! We are getting very close to the end here, and I am so excited!

*Brynja*  
We weaved in silence for a long while; I wove a new cloak for Conall, and Inga insisted that I accept cloak she wove for me, large enough to cover my belly. I took it gratefully, having taken to using Agron’s. I could now mend his cloak and return it to him.   
I aided Inga in cooking a stew for evening meal, and she saw me to water and oil to remove the dust and dirt of the road from my body. “I have not bathed in such luxury since I was yet a slave,” I commented. “To again be clean is a gift I cannot repay!”  
“I would have repayment of your taking food and rest so that when your child is born, it will be as beautiful and strong as its mother, vater, and baba,” Inga replied sternly as the men came in to break meal. I obeyed, sitting between Agron and Nasir, who laughed uproariously as they traded stories with Conall and Carloman and Dubhshlaine.   
To my great surprise, Conall and his sons helped Inga clean up the dishes and sent Agron and Nasir to bed with me. “What work did Conall put you to? Mucking out stalls?” I teased.  
Nasir laughed. “We gathered hay into bales. Neither of us had much of a hand for it, so we instead bore heavy weight of them into organization before tending Conall’s cattle.”  
“I wield sword with deadly purpose to men, not grass,” Agron commented in surly tone.   
I laughed out loud. “You both seem cleaner than yesterday. Why is that?”  
Nasir blushed and Agron laughed. “Nasir fell into a river. I retrieved him, and we remained in water long enough to remove scent of road.”  
“I did not need to be retrieved,” Nasir pouted. The child within me leapt with my laughter at its baba, and I urged both men to lay heads down to sleep.   
“We’ll take leave the day after tomorrow,” I proposed. “That should offer enough time to regain lost strength.”  
“The day after that,” Nasir amended with a kiss to my belly. “To be certain.”  
Agron nodded. “Nasir is right. Take an extra day to be sure; the horse could use the rest as well. Winter will be here soon, and I would see us to our new home before it hits.” He insisted that Nasir share the mat with me and took the floor nearby, falling nearly instantly to slumber.  
*Nasir*  
Much had changed in the last months, and I was glad for it. Brynja looked beautiful, even exhausted with dark circles on her pale skin. She yet shone like the sun with the light from within.  
The days of rest offered by Conall, Inga, and their family were a blessing from the very gods. When we left the farm, Brynja had mended all of our clothing and returned Agron’s cloak to him. Inga had made a soft green cloak for Brynja, and she wore it with a quiet dignity on the horse’s back. A few days more of travel passed without incident. Agron killed a small buck with a spear, and Brynja and I prepared it; the animal offered enough meat to see us across the sea to Britannia.  
In every town and village we passed through, people had heard of the rebel army, and were eager to hear our stories of blood and battle against the Roman shits who had taken so many Gauls from their families. We were quickly running out of coin, though, and did not have much to sell nor time to work for it. When we were staying in an inn—at a far reduced rate in exchange for stories of war and for adding to stock of firewood— Agron and I took to hunting and bringing meat to the butcher to sell, which afforded us what we hoped would be enough coin to buy a boat.   
The night before we hoped to reach the coast, Brynja added a small purse, heavy with coin, to the pile that Agron and I were pondering over. We stared up at her with wide eyes. “How did you come by this?” I asked.  
She shrugged. “The innkeeper has struggled since passing of wife to keep this place clean and to see his clothes mended. I saw his clothing and the inn to proper form, and other travelers brought me their clothes and saddle blankets.”  
Agron looked torn. “Brynja… you should not be scrubbing on knees or running about cleaning such a place as this! The child…”  
“The child is fine,” Brynja assured him. “I thought you would be grateful. We can buy a decent vessel to see us to Britannia, one we will be able to use to fish when home is built!”  
“We are grateful,” I cut in quickly, fearful of upsetting Brynja and, by extension, the life she carried. It already drained all of her energy to travel so heavy with child, her body small and not accustomed to carrying heavy load for so long. When she sat on the bed, I sat next to her. I kissed my wife and smiled against her lips. “The gods stand jealous of Agron and me, for we have a wife as resourceful and clever as she is beautiful.”  
She pushed me away playfully, suppressing a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Syrian,” she warned. The laughter she could not contain betrayed her words.  
Agron looked sternly at both of us, kneeling between us and taking Brynja’s hands and kissing the fingertips, sore and raw from needle pricks and days spent mending and scrubbing. “You are sure that you are safe? And the child, as well? You are both in good health?” he asked, soft but firm.  
She bent and pressed a kiss to his hair, which was growing longer than I had ever seen it. “I am sure, Agron. Turn head from worry; it is not necessary.”  
He smiled up at her, dimples showing. “You ask the impossible, little pearl.” Agron laid a gentle kiss on Brynja’s belly. “You, little one, had best be gentle with your mother,” he murmured. Brynja grinned at me; she loved when Agron and I spoke or sang to the child. I grinned back. As always, Brynja’s happiness was infectious.   
Agron had begun singing a gentle lullaby that neither Brynja nor I could understand; he sang in his native tongue.   
“Schlaf jetzt kleine Kind  
Sie sind sicher und geliebt  
In den Armen der schönen Mutter  
In den Armen des starken Vater  
Niemand wird euch schaden  
Wenn Sie sich in unseren Armen.”  
When he finished singing, he grinned up at Brynja and me. “Crixus sang you lullabies of your homeland; I would sing the lullabies my mutter sang for Duro and me in our childhood,” he explained.  
As glad as I was that Brynja and Agron remembered bits of their heritage, I could not help but long to know something of mine. I had been so young when I was taken into slavery, I could not remember my mother’s face or even my brother’s name, let alone the lullabies they sang to me.   
Still, I could not remain unhappy when I stood free in the arms of a wife and husband who loved me. I had nearly lost them both, and they yet lived. Agron’s hands, though they would likely never be as strong as once they were, healed, and he could again grip sword and spear with purpose. Beloved wife, once terrified of my touch, now ran her fingers through my hair and kissed the tip of my nose absently as Agron rambled about… something. Neither of us were truly listening.   
“Nasir!” Agron’s voice broke the haze that I had created for myself. I jerked up from where I had been laying with my head in Brynja’s lap. Agron chuckled and asked, “Have you any idea what I just said to you?”  
“You shouted my name?” I guessed. Brynja giggled and Agron rolled eyes.  
“I said, you should begin making nets. Teach Brynja to do it, and we will see selves prepared for lives as fishermen.” Agron scowled as if the word tasted foreign in his mouth.  
“You wouldn’t see us so?” I asked gently, straddling Agron’s lap and leaning foreheads together. “How would you have us live, then?”  
Agron sighed. “I have no preference what we do, so long as my family is safe,” he muttered. “I am only unsure if I will stand a worthy fisherman, an honorable husband to you and Brynja, and a strong vater to this child and all that shall follow.”  
Brynja sighed; she must have suspected his misgivings. I stood shocked. “Agron, do not shy from task ahead,” I urged. “We shall learn to be great fishermen together. We shall learn to be vater and baba to the children together. As with all things, Agron, we shall face every challenge and joy ahead side by side, with one another and with Brynja.”  
Brynja hummed and nodded her agreement. “What of my role as husband?” Agron whispered, lowering head and glancing at me through his lashes. “What if I fail in that?”  
“Over and over, even when we yet stood but lovers, you have proven self worthy husband. You protect as a husband must. You provide as a husband should. You love and please as no other husband ever has in all the world,” I promised, stealing a soft, chaste kiss from Agron’s lips.  
Brynja, on her knees on the bed next to us, pressed a kiss to Agron’s shoulder. “Listen to your husband, husband,” she advised with a small smile. “He speaks with knowledge and wisdom. What other German man would ask help of a Gaul if it meant saving his wife and child from harm? What man would protect as you protected me from his own countryman, even when we did not yet stand friends? What man holds enough love in his heart to take a husband and a wife, with enough left over to welcome a child to his life?”  
Agron smiled hesitantly at Brynja, who kissed his cheek gently. “Only one man stands your equal in my eyes, Agron, and he sits in your lap. My mother used to tell me that the god Vulcan watched over me, and he truly favors me, to have given me three great loves in my life. First Buranhu, and now the two of you.”  
“See worries put to bed, and see head to rest,” I told Agron, pushing him to lay on the bed between Brynja and me. I laid head upon chest and reached for Brynja across Agron’s body, and she clasped my fingers gently. I leaned up to whisper in Agron’s ear, “You will be a strong and loving vater. I know it.”  
He smiled and pressed a kiss to my hair as he often did when overcome by emotion. “As you will be a baba to rival all others,” he replied thickly.  
Next morning, Agron was gone when Brynja and I woke, as was the purse of coins. I could not find him in the inn or at the butcher’s, but the innkeeper said that he had paid for us to stay for another fortnight and left just as the sun rose. We owed nothing, and would not owe anything for fourteen days. We decided to search at the shore for him.  
There, an old fisherman told us that, yes, a large German with green eyes and scarred hands with a red cloak had bought his boat from him and promptly set sail. He had not said anything of his intentions, had only expressed gratitude before shoving off. I gave the man my gratitude and turned to my wife.  
Brynja trembled, eyes full of tears, as she asked me, “He has not abandoned us, has he? Nasir, tell me Agron isn’t gone.” She cradled her belly protectively, as if her arms could protect our child from the knowledge that we could not find its vater.  
I shook my head, kissing Brynja’s forehead. “I do not know,” I admitted. “I do not think Agron would do such a thing.”  
Her tears spilled. “We are so close to destination!” she sobbed. “Why would he leave us now? The child will come in a month, and what if the midwife demands greater payment than we can supply? Does he not wish to know our child?”  
I embraced her tightly. Though she voiced my own concerns, I couldn’t let her know I stood as fearful as she did. “Hush,” I demanded, quiet and loving but also firm. She slowly stopped crying and I continued, “Agron will return for us, for the child. I do not know what he intends to do in the next fortnight, but I trust him. As you should, too. Set mind at ease; we will begin making a net.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby:  
> Sleep now little child  
> You are safe and loved  
> In the arms of your beautiful mother  
> In the arms of your strong father  
> No one will harm you  
> When you are in our arms
> 
> I know it's corny, but I may or may not have an obsession with Agron's arms. I don't talk about it.


	14. Comfort in the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir and Brynja await Agron's return, but a much more pressing concern presents itself in his absence.

*Nasir*  
We set to work on the net, and the old fisherman taught us how to make it. In exchange for Brynja mending his cloak and trousers, as well as for me restocking his pile of firewood, the old man, whose name was Gozzo, instructed us on how to make a cast net from scratch. It was no easy task, and the growing bite in the air did not help. Gozzo offered to teach us inside his home, but Brynja refused to be removed from the shore.   
“When Agron returns, I will greet him with heavy blow,” she insisted. “He will not step on land without knowing of my anger.”  
With only five days remaining of the pre-paid fortnight, Brynja sat mending the cloak of a traveler in the inn, hoping to scrape together enough coin for a few extra nights should we need it. As she sat and sewed, I entreated her to set task aside. “You have spent all day on the net, now you seek yet more work?” I asked. “You are too heavy with child to tax self so.”  
She opened her mouth to retort, but instead, a shocked cry came out. Water stained the bed and the floor beneath and she doubled over in pain. I asked over and over what was happening, but a long moment passed before she could finally speak. “Go, fetch the midwife,” she entreated breathlessly. “Our child comes!”  
“What?! That… it is not time!” I protested as she again gasped and pain overtook her. Unsure of what else to do, I held onto her until it passed.  
“Nasir, love, you have to go fetch the midwife. The child is as impatient as its baba, so go!” she insisted.  
“I will not leave you here in this state!”  
“Then send someone!” she demanded, her words turning to a shriek as the pain returned.   
Wildly, I glanced around. My eyes landed on the mended cloak and I kissed Brynja soundly. “Wait here, I will return in just a moment.”  
Luckily, the owner of the cloak was down by the fire, eating. I returned his cloak to him and said, “My wife goes into labor, and I fear to leave her. Please, will you fetch the midwife? I beg you, please!”  
The man furrowed his brow but nodded. “I’ll return shortly. See to your wife, go!” he insisted.   
I shouted my gratitude to him over my shoulder as I hurried back to Brynja, who was curled in on herself, crying out in pain. “Come, little pearl, come to the bed,” I urged. “All is well, the midwife is coming.”  
“Nasir,” she whimpered, “Nasir, there is so much pain! Where is Agron?”  
I shook my head, angrier than ever that he had left us. “I do not know where Agron is, little pearl, but that does not matter. All that holds meaning is you and the child, yes?” As Brynja reclined on the bed, I sat behind her and supported her weight, taking her hand. “All is well, Brynja, just hold fast to me.”  
Pain overtook Brynja three more times before the midwife came in and introduced herself as Bodil. The woman was younger than I expected, hardly older than Agron, but she was wise and encouraging and did not falter through the labor, which lasted all night. Brynja wailed and pushed to Bodil’s patient instruction and my frantic encouragements. Finally, at dawn, Bodil cut away the cord and wiped away the fluids as our first child began to cry.  
Bodil wrapped the child in swaddling clothes and handed the wailing bundle to Brynja, saying, “Here, hold your daughter and see effort rewarded.”  
Brynja gasped as we both gazed at her. She was beautiful; she had dark hair and skin that was neither dark like mine nor pale like Brynja’s. The child was perfect.  
I offered Bodil all the coin we had, but she would not even take half of it. She only charged a bit. “The gods have called me to this work,” she explained. “I need only enough coin to survive on; the only other thing I need is to see healthy, happy children to the arms of healthy, happy parents. May the gods watch over you and bless you.”  
“Gratitude, Bodil. I do not know what we would have done absent your guidance. If you are ever in Britannia, you have a place to stay,” I replied, embracing her tightly. When she left, I turned back to Brynja, who was nursing the little girl in her arms.   
I sat behind Brynja, wrapping my arms around her and the child and resting my chin on her shoulder. “The gods bless us with a daughter as beautiful as her mother,” I whispered in Brynja’s ear.   
Brynja did not look up from the child’s face as she replied, “What do you want to call her?”  
After a moment, I offered, “Salwah, for she is a great comfort to her mother and baba in their time of need.”  
Brynja let tears fall and she laughed with joy. “Salwah. It is a beautiful name for our beautiful daughter.” Salwah eventually drank her fill and fell into a peaceful sleep.   
I gently pulled Salwah from Brynja’s arms to mine and said, “Sleep, little pearl. I will watch over you both.”  
“Nasir, you need rest as well,” she protested, though her eyes already drifted shut. I shushed her and she fell to slumber. I held them both as they slept, and I could express neither my joy for having a beautiful, healthy daughter and wife, nor my sorrow that our husband was not here to share joy. Agron would be able to hold Salwah in the palms of his scarred hands if he were here. Instead, he had left us… abandoned us. I could not sleep that night, for I had no idea what we would do if Agron did not return.  
Halfway through the day Brynja woke as Salwah began to wail. I had cleaned her up an hour or so before, but the child was hungry again. Brynja bade me to sleep an hour or two before we returned to task on shore, silencing my protests that she needed rest. She could hardly move for the pain she was yet in, but she insisted. I stood too exhausted to argue with her as she fed our daughter.  
*Brynja*  
Nasir fell to slumber as quickly as a rock sinks to the seafloor. Salwah nursed as I traced her delicate brows and lashes; our first child was as beautiful as her baba and vader. I could not decide which man I thought had given seed. The color of her skin would, at first, lend thought to Nasir. In the end, it did not truly matter whose cock she sprang from; all that mattered was that I now held her in my arms, and I would never see her harmed.   
When Nasir woke, we went to the shore to continue work on the net; it was nearly finished now. Despite the biting wind, Nasir refused to wear his cloak, insisting on wrapping it round Salwah as extra protection from the elements. He would not hear that her swaddling clothes and my cloak would provide plenty protection; he would have her warm. It was nearly night when I tied the last knot of the net. We were finished! This was also when a boat pulled up to shore and a large figure leapt out of it and approached.  
It couldn’t be him. Agron had abandoned us, hadn’t he? Unable to imagine a life absent blood and battle, he had returned to his homeland to fight and fuck and raid as he had in his youth… at least, that was what I assumed he had done. “Nasir, hold Salwah,” I requested, handing her off. She yawned at stretched in her baba’s arms.  
“Brynja, what…?” Nasir asked, not having yet seen Agron’s approach. He trailed off when he spotted the cloaked figure approaching.  
I ran to meet Agron. Before he could say anything or even see that I was no longer pregnant, I struck him as hard as I could in the jaw with my fist, snapping his head to the side as his smile faded. “HOW DARE YOU?” I screamed at him. “YOU GERMAN FUCK, HOW DARE YOU LEAVE US?”  
Agron faced me, rubbing jaw, and began to speak. “Brynja, please, listen—“ I hit him again. “Fuck the gods, woman, stop!” he shouted. “I left to—“  
“YOUR INTENTION IS FOR SHIT, AGRON!” As I yelled, Agron’s eyes traveled up and down my form, and before I could continue, he covered my mouth with his big hand.  
“The child was born?” he asked.  
I shoved him off. “Yes! The child was born and you weren’t here! What seized mind? What distracted the fucking German from his family? Was is it another woman? Or another man? Did you seek to abandon us?”  
“Where is the child? Speak, Brynja, where is my child?!” Agron seized my shoulders. Before he could roughly shake me, Nasir approached with Salwah squirming in his arms. She was small, though, and he had no trouble holding onto her.  
“See question answered,” Nasir said gently. “Where were you?” Agron moved to take Salwah into his arms; he wished to gaze upon her. But Nasir stepped away. “Where did you go, Agron?” he demanded. When Agron again reached for Salwah, I stood between them and pushed Agron back.  
He finally sank to his knees, removing his scarf and putting it in my hand on the way down, nodding toward Nasir. I saw the scarf to purpose to keep Nasir warm and turned expectant eyes to Agron. “I… I bought the boat so that I could go and secure a bit of land for us and build a shelter, one that will at least keep us warm for winter. Instead, I was able to buy a house and piece of ground on the cliffs above the ocean; the old woman who lives there needs to be cared for, though she may already be gone when we return. Now, please, let me see our child,” Agron begged.  
“You… you weren’t abandoning us?” I asked incredulously.  
“Jupiter’s cock, no!” he nearly shouted. “Brynja, you and Nasir are my whole heart; how many times need I say it? Please, Brynja, Nasir, please let me see the child. I beg you on bended knees, give me the child.”  
I turned and took Salwah from Nasir and sank to my knees in front of Agron. “Agron… meet your daughter, Salwah.”  
Tears filled Agron’s eyes as he stared down at his infant daughter’s face. “Salwah…” he whispered. After a few long moments, he looked at me and up at Nasir with tears falling down his cheeks. “She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! We just have one more chapter, I'll try to put up before I go to work tonight! I'm considering doing a companion series with a little more detail on some scenes that are not covered in detail, including Agron's experiences when he leaves his family in Gallia. Let me know what you guys think!


	15. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Brynja, Agron, Nasir, and Salwah cross the sea to Britannia and begin their life in freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! This has been a blast to write and post. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

*Brynja*

Nasir glared. “You should have been there when she was born. I did not think we would be able to…” Tears filled Nasir’s eyes. “Agron, she was in such pain, I feared for her life. You should have told us you were leaving.”  
Nasir’s fists were tightly clenched at his sides, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Agron. I was certain that Salwah sighing and falling asleep in Agron’s hands was the only reason Nasir hadn’t seen Agron to the same treatment I did. Agron ducked his head. “You are right. Apologies. I should have avoided allowing doubt to fall to your hearts. It was only… when I woke that morning, I knew I would have to leave quickly if I was to accomplish all I needed to. I moved to wake you, but you both looked… so beautiful, hair spilled over the pillows, moonlight on your faces. I could not bring myself to wake you.”  
I was the first to relent in my anger. I took Salwah and ducked into Agron’s arms. “Never leave us again,” I chided.  
“I will not,” Agron promised, kissing my temple. “Come, the night grows cold. We should see ourselves to the inn.”  
After he begged and pleaded and apologized a few more times for leaving us, I allowed Agron to hold Salwah as we returned. The already-small child was dwarfed in Agron’s huge hands and arms. He hardly looked up from her the rest of the evening, only releasing her when I needed to feed her.  
Afraid he may crush Salwah, Agron slept on the floor that night. Nasir and I slept on the bed with Salwah between us. Although Nasir was still angry at Agron, I did not miss him dangling his hand off the bed to hold onto Agron’s.  
For the next few days, we all gathered what coin we could; while it wasn’t much, we hoped it would be enough to keep us fed through the winter. When our pre-paid fortnight was up, we boarded the boat with our cast net in tow and set sail for Britannia.  
*Agron*  
As we sailed from Gallia to Britannia, Nasir and Brynja conversed quietly; I assumed that they were trying to decide if Nasir or I was the father of the child. I was too lost in thought to care.  
So much had changed since Sinuessa. In a year and a half, Brynja and I had moved from enemies to lovers to parents, all because of the beautiful man sitting next to her. Where we once bathed in blood and death and pain, we now flourished in love. I never dreamed of such things, not since losing Duro.  
Duro would have adored Salwah. Gods, my heart ached for my little brother. Losing brothers seemed a common theme between my lovers and me, but sharing our pain did nothing to dull it. Although my joy at the birth of my daughter was unsurpassed in my life, I still wished only for Duro to share it.  
I rarely spoke of Duro, though he often weighed heavy on mind. He was reason I did not return to the Lands East of the Rhine. Although I longed for the lands of my youth, I would not be able to bear seeing them absent Duro at my side.  
I would give all to see him in this boat with us, perhaps with a lover of his own, holding his niece and declaring that Nasir must be father to the child, because no child sprang from my cock could be so beautiful. Brynja would have leapt to my defense while Nasir laughed and his cheeks colored, just a bit, and Duro would have rocked the boat with his laughter.  
I was so deep in thought that I did not hear Nasir approach; he nudged me and passed Salwah to me. “What do you think, Agron? Did you or I plant seed?”  
I stared down at her. “It must have been you,” I said, my voice a little unsteady. “She has hair like yours, dark and thick and beautiful.” Her hair looked like Duro’s, as did her lips. When I looked at my daughter, all I could see was my fallen brother, though Nasir and Brynja would not. They had never met my brother, though Salwah bore him great resemblance. It must have been me. “She is beautiful.” I couldn’t keep my tears from falling then.  
“She is,” Nasir agreed. “She will grow strong and brave like her vater,” he added, leaning his forehead against mine. Salwah began to cry and Brynja fetched her to feed her. As I stared after her, Nasir spoke again, quiet enough that Brynja could not hear. “What seizes thought? You have not heard anything but your own thoughts since we left Gallia.”  
I sighed heavily. “Thoughts of the fallen weigh heavy on my shoulders this night. I would give all to see them in a free and peaceful life.”  
Nasir nodded and hummed his agreement. “You mean Duro?” When I nodded, he continued. “You rarely speak of him, Agron. I do not pretend to know why. He was blessed to have such a brother, and you were blessed to have grown up knowing him. Not all are so lucky.”  
“You yet cannot recall your brother’s name?” I knew that this caused Nasir great turmoil.  
Nasir shook his head. “I cannot truly recall what he looked like, either. I only remember my name on his lips, and that he was older than I. I would give all to remember, to know if he yet draws breath, to remember how to form words in native tongue.” He hung his head. “What I told you yet stands true. I am more Roman than Syrian.”  
Nasir’s pain overshadowed my own, and I no longer thought about Duro. I thought only of comforting my husband. I embraced him tightly. “What matters is not the country from which you hail, but the arms you fall to and the cause you choose. You fought for justice, Nasir, and you find your home in my arms and in Brynja’s. You are loving baba to Salwah, not domineering Roman father.”  
“You introduced me to Conall as Nasir of Syria,” Nasir reminded me. “To you, I am Syrian, yet I do not know the lullabies my ummi sang to me.”  
“You are Syrian because of your cleverness, your skill and speed,” I explained, “And because the Romans took everything from you, but they could not take the lands of your birth.”  
He hung his head. “Brynja once said that she and I were beasts of no nation. I did not realize how difficult it would become to be such when we are free to have a nation.”  
“Then make Britannia your nation,” I suggested. “And I will do the same.”  
“You never asked to return to the Lands East of the Rhine, yet you cling to them,” Nasir told me. “You will always count that place as your own. Why did you not wish to return?”  
I sighed. “I could not return absent Duro at my side. My village was destroyed; I had no one left to return for.”  
“As Syria stands for me and Gallia for Brynja.” Nasir nodded. “We shall carve out a living from the cliffs of Britannia, then.”  
As we sailed through the night, I held Salwah so that Brynja could sleep, her head in Nasir’s lap. He ran his hands through her red hair and smiled at the mother of our child. When she had fallen to dreams, he asked me, “Why did you cease hating and turn to love?”  
I shrugged. “I ceased hate when I knew you would not turn from me to be with her. I turned to love when I grew to admire her beauty and her skill as medicus. When did you begin to hold her as more than friend?”  
“Before we entered Sinuessa,” he admitted. “I held feelings for her, but knew that they would not be embraced by her or by you. I did not speak of my feelings till I was sure you held the same ones.”  
“Had you told me when first I met her that she would be the mother of my children, I would have told you that mind was lost, that I would never give such a woman my seed. Now, I cannot imagine my life without her in it. I would give her more children.” I kissed Salwah’s forehead and cheeks gently as I spoke, wanting her to know how much her vater loved her.  
“As would I. But before we have more mouths to feed, let us see that we can feed them,” Nasir added. “I would not have children fearing starvation.”  
I smiled at Nasir, always logical. “Of course. We will wait until we have coin in hand, fish in net.”  
The next morning, Brynja had just finished feeding Salwah when she called for us.  
“Agron! Nasir!” Brynja called. “Come, Salwah opens eyes!”  
Nasir and I smiled at one another and hurried to Brynja’s side. Sure enough, Salwah’s eyes fluttered open, showing piercing green. “You stand wrong, Agron,” Nasir told me, not looking up from our daughter’s face. “Her eyes show whose cock she sprang from. You planted seed.”  
I was speechless. For all that she bore resemblance to her uncle, I could not deny that her eyes were just as mine. Without a word, I took Salwah into my hands and sat staring for a long time, the only thing in my mind the love I held for this tiny child in my hands.  
After another night, Nasir spotted the cliffs of Britannia. I steered the boat west till spotting our new home. After pulling the boat ashore, I led my family up the path to the house, where the old woman awaited our return.  
“Agron!” she greeted me, hobbling to my embrace on her cane. “Is this your family?”  
“Yes, Feidlimid, this is my wife, Brynja, my husband, Nasir, and our daughter, Salwah,” I told her, pointing to each in turn. “This is Feidlimid. She has offered her home and land to us in exchange for caring for it and for her.”  
“You told me the child was yet unborn, Agron. Why lie to an old woman?” Feidlimid accused with a playful grin.  
“Apologies, I did not know it was a lie. Brynja gave birth while I was yet here.” I grinned down at the old woman. She was wise and kind and I was happy to count her among my friends.  
“Well, come, then, let me see the child,” Feidlimid demanded. Brynja brought Salwah forward and Feidlimid took her into her hands. She looked into Salwah’s bright green eyes and smiled, nodding. “Yes, this child will be strong and beautiful, just as her mother and baba and vader.”  
Brynja smiled. “Gratitude for allowing us into your home,” she said. “We will do all we can to repay kindness.”  
Feidlimid regarded her curiously before saying, “You have known grief like few others in this world. You will be a good mother to many children, and a good wife to Agron and Nasir.” She patted Brynja’s cheek gently before continuing, “I know you are frightened because you have never cared for an infant before, but I will advise you as your mother would have if it were possible.”  
Brynja could not respond, her eyes full of tears. I smiled; I had responded much the same way when Feidlimid had looked into my eyes (after pulling me down to look her in the eyes) and said, “You fear for your family, but you do not need to. With you as their protector, nothing can touch them.”  
She turned to Nasir. “Come, I would see your eyes and see what kind of man Agron chose before meeting the mother of his child.”  
Nasir came forward wordlessly, staring fearlessly into Feidlimid’s eyes. “Agron spoke true of you,” she said. “You are wise, honest, and good. You will care for your family well, and they will not be led astray. You brought this family together, and you will keep them together, even when Brynja and Agron wish it to be otherwise. You will keep them where their hearts belong.”  
Nasir pulled away, puzzled. “Agron and Brynja will not seek to leave one another,” he protested. “It was by their actions, not mine, that they took each other to heart.”  
Feidlimid shook her head. “Things are not always as they seem, Nasir. You have a strength in your heart that few possess. Use it to keep your family strong when all seems lost.”  
A few days later, after she had shown Brynja how to calm Salwah when she seemed to wail absent reason and the best ways to swaddle Salwah for sleep and how to use my scarf to hold Salwah without her hands, Feidlimid passed to the next world in her sleep. Nasir and I built a funeral pyre for her and saw her from this life honorably.  
Brynja tended to Feidlimid’s three cows, their calves, and the bull, feeding them hay from the small shack where it was kept and milking them. Nasir and I saw to fishing, and it seemed almost seamless that we transferred from hunting and sleeping in inns and on the ground to carving a living from the cliffs of Britannia.  
This was a life I had never dared to dream of when we stood in the midst of war. A year and a half had passed since Brynja and I took with Crixus, and then, I feared I would never see Nasir again, certain I would die on the battlefield. Without Brynja, I would have been for the afterlife. Now, I stood a humble fisherman with husband and wife at my side, daughter in my arms, and I wished only for many more years in this home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's a lot of opportunity for some companion pieces, especially with Feidlimid's predictions. Anyway, I really hope you've enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments, I LOVE feedback; it helps me be a better writer. Just so you know, this fic is complete, so I will (hopefully) be posting a chapter a day until the whole thing is up, and will do an epilogue later on if it is wanted!


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